THE 



ACCOMPLISHED LADY 



STRICTURES 



THE MODERN SYSTEM 



FEMALE EDUCATION 



A VIEW OF THE PRINCIPLES AND CONDUCT 

PREVALENT AMONG WOMEN OF RANK 

AND FORTUNE. 

BY HANNAH MORE. 





PUBLISHED BY JAMES LORING, 

No. 132 Washington Street. 

1838. 



v^ 



A 'r '''• 



PREFACE. 



It is a singular injustice which is often exercised 
towards women, first to give them a very defective 
education, and then to expect from them the most un- 
deviating purity of conduct ; to train them in such a 
manner as shall lay them open to the most dangerous 
faults, and then to censure them for not proving fault- 
less. Is it not unreasonable and unjust to express 
disappointment if our daughters should, in their sub- 
sequent lives, turn out precisely that very kind of cha- 
racter for which it would be evident, to an unprejudiced 
bystander, that the whole scope and tenor of their in- 
struction had been systematically preparing them? 

Some reflections on the present erroneous system 
are here with great deference submitted to public con- 
sideration. The author is apprehensive that she shall 
be accused of betraying the interests of her sex by lay- 
ing open their defects ; but surely, an earnest wish to 
turn their attention to objects calculated to promote 
their true dignity, is not the office of an enemy. So 
to expose the weakness of the land as to suggest the 
necessity of internal improvement, and to point out the 
means of effectual defence, is not treachery, but patri- 
otism. 



IV PREFACE. 

Again, it may be objected to tbis little work, that 
many errors are here ascribed to women which by no 
means belong to them exclusively, and that it seems to 
confine to the sex those faults which are common to 
the species ; but this is in some measure unavoidable. 
In speaking on the qualities of one sex, the moralist is 
somewhat in the situation of the geographer, who is 
treating on the nature of one country : the air, soil, 
and produce of the land which he is describing, cannot 
fail in many essential points to resemble those of other 
countries under the same parallel ; yet it is his busi- 
ness to descant on the one, without adverting to the 
other ; and though in drawing his map he may happen 
to introduce some of the neighboring coast, yet his 
principal attention must be confined to that country 
which he proposes to describe, without taking into ac- 
count the resembling circumstances of the adjacent 
shores. 

It may be also objected, that the opinion here sug- 
gested on the state of manners among the higher class- 
es of our countrywomen, may seem to controvert the 
just encomiums of modern travellers, who generally 
concur in ascribing a decided superiority to the ladies 
of this country over those of every other. But such 
is, in general, the state of foreign manners, that the 
comparative praise is almost an injury to English wo- 
men. To be flattered for excelling those whose stand- 
ard of excellence is very low, is but a degrading kind 
of commendation ; for the value of all praise derived 
from superiority, depends on the worth of the competi- 
tor. The character of British ladies, with all the un- 
paralleled advantages they possess, must never be de- 
termined by a comparison with the women of other 
nations, but by comparing them with what they them- 



PREFACE. V 

selves might be, if all their talents and unrivalled op- 
portunities were turned to the best account. 

Again, it may be said, that the author is less dis- 
posed to expatiate on excellence than error ; but the 
office of the historian of human manners is delineation 
rather than panegyric. Were the end in view eulo- 
gium, and not improvement, eulogium would have been 
far more gratifying; nor would just objects for praise 
have been difficult to find. Even in her own limited 
sphere of observation, the author is acquainted with 
much excellence in the class of which she treats ; — 
with women who, possessing learning which would be 
thought extensive in the other sex, set an example of 
deep humility to their own ; women, who, distinguish- 
ed for wit and genius, are eminent for domestic quali- 
ties ; who, excelling in the fine arts, have carefully 
enriched their understandings ; who, enjoying great 
affluence, devote it to the glory of God; who, pos- 
sessing elevated rank, think their noblest style and 
title is that of a Christian. 

That there is also much worth which is little known, 
she is persuaded ; for it is the modest nature of good- 
ness to exert itself quietly, while a few characters of 
the opposite cast seem, by the rumor of their exploits, 
to fill the world ; and by their noise to multiply their 
numbers. It often happens that a very small party of 
people, by occupying the foreground, by seizing the 
public attention, and monopolizing the public talk, 
contrives to appear to be the great body ; a few active 
spirits, provided their activity take the wrong turn and 
support the wrong cause, seem to fill the scene ; and a 
few disturbers of order, who have the talent of thus 
exciting a false idea of their multitudes by their mis- 
1# 



VI PREFACE. 

chiefs, actually gain strength, and swell their numbers 
by this fallacious arithmetic. 

But the present work is no more intended for a 
panegyric on those purer characters who seek not hu- 
man praise because they act from a higher motive, 
than for a satire on the avowedly licentious, who, 
urged by the impulse of the moment, resist no inclina- 
tion ; and, led away by the love of fashion, dislike no 
censure, so it may serve to rescue them from neglect 
or oblivion. 

There are, however, multitudes of the young and 
the well-disposed, who have as yet taken no decided 
part, who are just launching on the ocean of life, just 
about to lose their own right convictions, virtually 
preparing to counteract their better propensities, and 
unreluctantly yielding themselves to be carried down 
the tide of popular practices : sanguine, thoughtless, 
and confident of safety. To these the author would 
gently hint, that, when once embarked, it will be no 
longer easy to say to their passions, or even to their 
principles, " Thus far shall ye go, and no farther." 
Their struggles will grow fainter, their resistance will 
become feebler, till, borne down by the confluence of 
example, temptation, appetite, and habit, resistance 
and opposition will soon be the only things of which 
they will learn to be ashamed. 

Let it not be suspected that the author arrogantly 
conceives herself to be exempt from that natural cor- 
ruption of the heart which it is one chief object of this 
slight work to exhibit ; that she superciliously erects 
herself into the impeccable censor of her sex and of 
the world ; as if from the critic's chair she were coldly 
pointing out the faults and errors of another order of 
beings, in whose welfare she had not that lively in- 



PREFACE. Vll 

terest which can only flow from the tender and inti- 
mate participation of fellow-feeling. 

With a deep self-abasement, arising from a strong 
conviction of being indeed a partaker in the same cor- 
rupt nature, together with a full persuasion of the 
many and great defects of this work, and a sincere 
consciousness of her inability to do justice to a subject 
which, however, a sense of duty impelled her to un- 
dertake, she commits herself to the candor of that pub- 
lic which has so frequently in her instance accepted a 
right intention as a substitute for a powerful perform- 
ance. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

Page. 
Address to women of rank and fortune, on the effects of 
their influence on society. — Suggestions for the exertion 
of it in various instances, .__--- 9 

CHAPTER II. 

On the education of women.— The prevailing system 
tends to establish the errors which it ought to correct. 
— Dangers arising from an excessive cultivation of the 
arts, 49 

CHAPTER III. 

External improvement. — Children's balls. — French gov- 
erness, ---------- 66 

CHAPTER IV. 

Comparison of the mode of female education in the last 

age with the present, ------- 76 

CH APTER V. 

On the religious employment of time. — On the manner in 
which holidays are passed. — Selfishness and inconsid- 
eration considered. — Dangers arising from the world, - 85 

CHAPTER VI. 

ON THE EARLY FORMING OF HABITS. 

On the necessity of forming the judgment to direct those 
habit3, 102 



X CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Filial obedience not the character of the age. — A compari- 
son with the preceding age in this respect. — Those who 
cultivate the mind advised to study the nature of the 
soil. — Unpromising children often made strong charac- 
ters. — Teachers too apt to devote their pains almost ex- 
clusively to children of parts, .... - 113 

CHAPTER VIII. 
On female study, and initiation into knowledge. — Error of 
cultivating the imagination to the neglect of the judg- 
ment. — Books of reasoning recommended, - 129 

CHAPTER IX. 

On the religious and moral use of history and geography, 144 

CHAPTER X. 
On the use of definitions, and the moral benefits of accu- 
racy in language, -------- 159 

CHAPTER XI. 

On religion. — The necessity and duty of early instruction, 
shown by analogy with human learning, - 168 

CHAPTER XII. 

On the manner of instructing young persons in religion. — 
General remarks on the genius of Christianity, - - 182 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Hints suggested for furnishing young persons with a 
scheme of prayer, -------- 204 

CHAPTER XIV. 



The practical use of female knowledge, with a sketch of 
the female character, and a comparative view of the 
sexes, ----.-.--.-- r 



215 



CONTENTS. XI 

CHAPTER XV. 

CONVERSATION. 

Hints suggested on the subject.— On the tempers and dis- 
positions to be introduced in it. — Errors to be avoided. — 
Vanity under various shapes the cause of those errors, 242 

CHAPTER XVI. 

On the danger of an ill-directed sensibility, - 279 

CHAPTER XVII. 
On dissipation and the modern habits of fashionable life, 304 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
On public amusements, ------- 335 

CHAPTER XIX. 
A worldly spirit incompatible with the spirit of Christianity, 353 

CHAPTER XX. 

ON THE LEADING DOCTRINES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

The corruption of human nature. — The doctrine of re- 
demption. — The necessity of a change of heart, and of 
the divine influences to produce that change. — With a 
sketch of the Christian character, ----- 378 

CHAPTER XXI. 
On the duty and efficacy of prayer, ----- 409 



THE 



ACCOMPLISHED LADY. 



CHAPTER I. 



Address to women of rank and fortune, on the effects of their 
influence on society. — Suggestions for the exertion of it in va- 
rious instances. 

Among the talents for the application of 
which women of the higher class will be pecu- 
liarly accountable, there is one, the importance 
of which they can scarcely rate too highly. 
This talent is influence. We read of the great- 
est orator of antiquity, that the wisest plans 
which it had cost him years to frame, a woman 
could overturn in a single day ;* and when we 
consider the variety of mischiefs which an ill- 
directed influence has been known to produce, 
we are led to reflect with the most sanguine 
hope on the beneficial effects to be expected 
from the same powerful force when exerted in 
its true direction. 



* Cicero. This illustrious patriot had defeated Catiline's con- 
spiracy by the means of Fulvia, but he fell himself afterwards by 
her vengeance. When the head of Cicero was brought to this 
infamous woman, she pierced with a bodkin that tongue which 
had so often delighted listening senators and directed their coun- 
cils. — Ed. 

2 



10 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

The general state of civilized society de- 
pends more than those are aware who are not 
accustomed to scrutinize into the springs of hu- 
man action, on the prevailing sentiments and 
habits of women, and on the nature and degree 
of the estimation in which they are held. Even 
those who admit the power of female elegance 
on the manners of men, do not always attend 
to the influence of female principles on their 
character. In the former case, indeed, women 
are apt to be sufficiently conscious of their pow- 
er, and not backward in turning it to account. 
But there are nobler objects to be effected by 
the exertion of their powers ; and, unfortunate- 
ly, ladies who are often unreasonably confident 
where they ought to be diffident, are sometimes 
capriciously diffident just when they ought to 
feel where their true importance lies ; and, 
feeling, to exert it. To use their boasted power 
over mankind to no higher purpose than the 
gratification of vanity or the indulgence of plea- 
sure, is the degrading triumph of those fair vic- 
tims to luxury, caprice, and despotism, whom 
the laws and the religion of the voluptuous pro- 
phet of Arabia exclude from light, and Jiberty, 
and knowledge ; and it is humbling to reflect, 
that in those countries in which fondness for 
the mere persons of women is carried to the 
highest excess, they ore slaves ; and that their 
moral and intellectual degradation increases in 
direct proportion to the adoration which is paid 
to mere external charms. 

But I turn to the bright reverse of this morti- 
fying scene ; to a country where our sex enjoys 
the blessings of liberal instruction, of reasona- 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 11 

ble laws, of a pure religion, and all the endear- 
ing pleasures of an equal, social, virtuous, and 
delightful intercourse : I turn with an earnest 
hope, that women, thus richly endowed with 
the bounties of Providence, will not content 
themselves with polishing, when they are able 
to reform ; with entertaining, when they may 
awaken ; and with captivating for a day, when 
they may bring into action powers of which the 
effects may be commensurate with eternity. 

In this moment of alarm and peril, I would 
call on them with a " warning voice," which 
should stir up every latent principle in their 
minds, and kindle every slumbering energy in 
their hearts ; I would call on them to come for- 
ward, and contribute their full and fair propor- 
tion towards the saving of their country. But 
I would call on them to come forward, without 
departing from the refinement of their charac- 
ter, without derogating from the dignity of their 
rank, without blemishing the delicacy of their 
sex : I would call them to the best and most 
appropriate exertion of their power, to raise the 
depressed tone of public morals, and to awaken 
the drowsy spirit of religious principle. They 
know too well how arbitrarily they give the law 
to manners, and with how despotic a sway they 
fix the standard of fashion. But this is not 
enough ; this is a low mark, a prize not worthy 
of their high and holy calling. For on the use 
which women of the superior class may now be 
disposed to make of that power delegated to 
them by the courtesy of custom, by the honest 
gallantry of the heart, by the imperious control 
of virtuous affections, by the habits of civilized 



12 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

states, by the usages of polished society ; on 
the use, I say, which they shall hereafter make 
of this influence, will depend, in no low degree, 
the well-being of those states, and the virtue 
and happiness, nay, perhaps the very existence, 
of that society. 

At this period, when our country can only 
hope to stand by opposing a bold and noble 
unanimity to the most tremendous confedera- 
cies against religion, and order, and govern- 
ments, which the world ever saw, what an ac- 
cession would it bring to the public strength, 
could we prevail on beauty, and rank, and tal- 
ents, and virtue, confederating their several 
powers, to exert themselves, with a patriotism 
at once firm and feminine, for the general good ! 
I am not sounding an alarm to female warriors, 
or exciting female politicians : I hardly know 
which of the two is the most disgusting and un- 
natural character. Propriety is to a woman 
what the great Roman critic says action is to 
an orator ; it is the first, the second, the third 
requisite. A woman may be knowing, active, 
witty, and amusing ; but without propriety she 
cannot be amiable. Propriety is the centre in 
which all the lines of dutv and of agreeableness 
meet. It is to character what proportion is to 
figure, and grace to attitude. It does not de- 
pend on any one perfection, but it is the result 
of general excellence. It shows itself by a 
regular, orderly, undeviating course ; and never 
starts from its sober orbit into any splendid ec- 
centricities ; for it would be ashamed of such 
praise as it might extort by any deviations from 
its proper path. It renounces all commenda- 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 13 

tion but what is characteristic ; and I would 
make it the criterion of true taste, right princi- 
ple, and genuine feeling, in a woman, whether 
she would be less touched with all the flattery 
of romantic and exaggerated panegyric, than 
with that beautiful picture of correct and ele- 
gant propriety which Milton draws of our first 
mother, when he delineates 

" Those thousand decencies which daily flow 
From all her words and actions." 

Even the influence of religion is to be exer- 
cised with discretion. A female polemic wan- 
ders nearly as far from the limits prescribed to 
her sex, as a female Machiavel* or warlike 
Thalestris.f Fierceness has made almost as few 
converts as the sword, and both are peculiarly 
ungraceful in a female. Even religious vio- 
lence has human tempers of its own to indulge, 
and is gratifying itself when it would be thought 
to be serving God. Let not the bigot place her 
natural passions to the account of Christianity, 
or imagine she is pious when she is only pas- 
sionate. Let her bear in mind that a Christian 
doctrine is always to be defended with a Chris- 
tian spirit, and not make herself amends by the 
stoutness of her orthodoxy for the badness of 
her temper. Many, because they defend a re- 
ligious opinion with pertinacity, seem to fancy 
that they thereby acquire a kind of right to 
withhold the meekness and obedience which 
should be necessarily involved in the principle. 

* Nicholas Machiavel, secretary to the- republic of Florence in 
the 15th century. His name is proverbial, as characteristic of 
subtle policy. 

t Queen of the Amazons,. 

2* 



14 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

But the character of a consistent Christian is 
as carefully to be maintained, as that of a fiery 
disputant is to be avoided ; and she who is 
afraid to avow her principles, or ashamed to de- 
fend them, has little claim to that honorable 
title. A profligate, who laughs at the most sa- 
cred institutions, and keeps out of the way of 
every thing which comes under the appearance 
of formal instruction, may be disconcerted by 
the modest, but spirited rebuke of a delicate 
woman, whose life adorns the doctrines which 
her conversation defends ; but she who admin- 
isters reproof with ill-breeding, defeats the ef- 
fect of her remedy. On the other hand, there 
is a dishonest way of laboring to conciliate the 
favor of a whole company, though of characters 
and principles irreconcilably opposite. The 
words may be so guarded as not to shock the 
believer, while the eye and voice may be so ac- 
commodated as not to discourage the infidel. 
She, who, with a half-earnestness, trims be- 
tween the truth and the fashion ; who, while 
she thinks it creditable to defend the cause of 
religion, yet does it in a faint tone, a studied 
ambiguity of phrase, and a certain expression 
in her countenance which proves that she is not 
displeased with what she affects to censure, or 
that she is afraid to lose her reputation for wit, 
in proportion as she advances her credit for 
piety, injures the cause more than he who at- 
tacks it ; for she proves either that she does not 
believe what she professes, or that she does not 
reverence what fear compels her to believe. 
But this is not all : she is called on, not barely 
to repress impiety, but to excite, to encourage, 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 1 5 

and to cherish every tendency to serious reli- 
gion. 

Some of the occasions of contributing to the 
general good which are daily presenting them- 
selves to ladies, are almost too minute to be 
pointed out. Yet of the good which right- 
minded women, anxiously watching these mi- 
nute occasions, and adroitly seizing them, might 
accomplish, we may form some idea by the ill 
effects which we actually see produced, through 
the mere levity, carelessness, and inattention 
(to say no worse) of some of those ladies, who 
are looked up to as standards in the fashionable 
world. 

I am persuaded if many a woman of fashion, 
who is now disseminating unintended mischief, 
under the dangerous notion that there is no 
harm in any thing short of positive vice, and 
under the false colors of that indolent humility, 
" What good can I do ?" could be brought to 
see in its collected force the annual aggregate 
of the random evil she is daily doing, by con- 
stantly throwing a little casual weight into the 
wrong scale, by mere inconsiderate and un- 
guarded chat, she would start from her self- 
complacent dream. If she could conceive how 
much she may be diminishing the good impres- 
sions of young men, and if she could imagine 
how little amiable levity or irreligion makes her 
appear in the eyes of those who are older and 
abler (however loose their own principles may 
be,) she would correct herself in the first in- 
stance, from pure good nature ; and, in the 
second, from worldly prudence and mere self- 
love. But on how much higher principles would 



16 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

she restrain herself, if she habitually took into 
account the important doctrine of consequen- 
ces ; and if she reflected that the lesser but 
more habitual corruptions make up, by their 
number, what, they may seem to come short of 
by their weight; then, perhaps, she would find 
that, among the higher class of women, incon- 
sideration is adding more to the daily quantity 
of evil than almost all other causes put together. 
There is an instrument of inconceivable 
force, when it is employed against the interests 
of Christianity : it is not reasoning, for that 
may be answered ; it is not learning, for luckily 
the infidel is not seldom ignorant ; it is not in- 
vective, for we leave so coarse an engine to the 
hands of the vulgar ; it is not evidence, for hap- 
pily we have that all on our side : it is ridicule, 
the most deadly weapon in the whole arsenal of 
impiety, and which becomes an almost unerring 
shaft when directed by a fair and fashionable 
hand. No maxim has been more readily adopt- 
ed, or is more intrinsically false, than that which 
the fascinating eloquence of a noble skeptic of 
the last age contrived to render so popular, that 
" ridicule is the test of truth."* It is no test of 
truth itself; but of their firmness who assert 
the cause of truth, it is indeed a severe test. 
This light, keen, missile weapon, the irresolute, 
unconfirmed Christian will find it harder to 



* Lord Shaftesbury, in his "Characteristics." But says Dr. 
Brown, one of his lordship's chief opponents — " A rigid exami- 
nation is the only test of truth. For experience hath taught us, 
that even obstinacy or error can endure the fires of persecution. 
But it is genuine truth, and that alone, which conies out, pure 
and unchanged, from the severer tortures of debate." — Ed. 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 17 

withstand, than the whole heavy artillery of in- 
fidelity united. 

A young man of the better sort, has, per- 
haps, just entered upon the world, with a cer- 
tain share of good dispositions and right feel- 
ings ; neither ignorant of the evidences, nor 
destitute of the principles, of Christianity : 
without parting with his respect for religion, he 
sets out with the too natural wish of making 
himself a reputation, and of standing well with 
the fashionable part of the female world. He 
preserves for a time a horror of vice, which 
makes it not difficult for him to resist the gross- 
er corruptions of society ; he can as yet repel 
profaneness ; nay, he can withstand the banter 
of a club. He has sense enough to see through 
the miserable fallacies of the new philosophy, 
and spirit enough to expose its malignity. So 
far he does well, and you are ready to congratu- 
late him on his security. You are mistaken ; 
the principles of the ardent and hitherto promis- 
ing adventurer are shaken, just in that very so- 
ciety where, while he was looking for pleasure, 
he doubted not of safety. In the company of 
certain women, of good fashion and no ill fame, 
he makes shipwreck of his religion. He sees 
them treat with levity or derision subjects which 
he has been used to hear named with respect. 
He could confute an argument, he could un- 
ravel a sophistry ; but he cannot stand a laugh. 
A sneer, not at the truth of religion, for that, 
perhaps, is by none of the party disbelieved, 
but at its gravity, its unseasonableness, its dull- 
ness, puts all his resolution to flight. He feels 
his mistake, and struggles to recover his credit ; 



18 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

in order to which, he adopts the gay affectation 
of trying to seem worse than he really is ; he 
goes on to say things which he does not believe, 
and to deny things which he does believe ; and 
all to efface the first impression, and to recover 
a reputation which he has committed to their 
hands on Whose report he knows he shall stand 
or fall, in those circles in which he is ambitious 
to shine. 

That cold compound of irony, irreligion, 
selfishness, and sneer, which make up what the 
French (from whom we borrow the thing as 
well as the word) so well express by the term 
perjlage, has of late years made an incredible 
progress in blasting the opening buds of piety 
in young persons of fashion. A cold pleasant- 
ry, a temporary cant word, the jargon of the 
day (for the " great vulgar" have their jargon,) 
blights the first promise of seriousness. The 
ladies of ton have certain watchwords, which 
may be detected as indications of this spirit. 
The clergy are spoken of under the contemptu- 
ous appellation of the parsons. Some ludicrous 
association is infallibly combined with every 
idea of religion. If a warm-hearted youth has 
ventured to name with enthusiasm some emi- 
nently pious character, his glowing ardor is 
extinguished with a laugh ; and a drawling 
declaration, that the person in question is really 
a mighty harmless, good creature, is uttered in 
a tone which leads the youth secretly to vow, 
that whatever else he may be, he will never be 
a good, harmless creature. 

Nor is ridicule more dangerous to true piety 
than to true taste. An age which values itself 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 1 9 

on parody, burlesque, irony and caricature, pro- 
duces little that is sublime, either in genius or 
in virtue ; but they amuse, aud we live in an 
age which must be amused, though genius, 
feeling, truth, and principle, be the sacrifice. 
Nothing chills the ardors of devotion like a 
frigid sarcasm ; and, in the season of youth, 
the mind should be kept particularly clear of 
all light associations. This is of so much im- 
portance, that I have known persons who, hav- 
ing been early accustomed to certain ludicrous 
combinations, were never able to get their 
minds cleansed from the impurities contracted 
by this habitual levity, even after a thorough 
reformation in their hearts and lives had taken 
place : their principles became reformed, but 
their imaginations were indelibly soiled. They 
could desist from sins which the strictness of 
Christianity would not allow them to commit, 
but they could not dismiss from their minds 
images which her purity forbade them to enter- 
tain. 

There was a time when variety of epithets 
were thought necessary to express various kinds 
of excellence, and when the different qualities 
of the mind were distinguished by appropriate 
and discriminating terms ; when the words ven- 
erable, learned, sagacious, profound, acute, pi- 
ous, worthy, ingenious, valuable, elegant, agree- 
able, wise, or witty, were used as specific marks 
of distinct characters. But the legislators of 
fashion have of late years thought proper to 
comprise all merit in one established epithet ; 
an epithet which, it must be confessed, is a very 
desirable one, as far as it goes. This term is 



20 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

exclusively and indiscriminately applied wher- 
ever commendation is intended. The word 
pleasant now serves to combine and express all 
moral and intellectual excellence. Every indi- 
vidual, from the gravest professors of the gravest 
profession, down to the trifler who is of no pro- 
fession at all, must earn the epithet of pleasant , 
or must be contented to be nothing ; and must 
be consigned over to ridicule, under the vulgar 
and inexpressive cant word of — a bore. This 
is the mortifying designation of many a respect- 
able man, who, though of much worth and 
much ability, cannot, perhaps, clearly make out 
his letters patent to the title of pleasant. For, 
according to this modern classification, there is 
no intermediate state, but all are comprised 
within the ample bounds of one or other of 
these two comprehensive terms. 

We ought to be more on our guard against 
this spirit of ridicule, because, whatever may 
be the character of the present day, its faults 
do not spring from the redundancies of great 
qualities, or the overflowings of extravagant vir- 
tues. It is well if more correct views of life, a 
more regular administration of laws, and a more 
settled state of society, have helped to restrain 
the excesses of the heroic ages, when love and 
war were considered as the great and sole busi- 
nesses of human life. Yet, if that period was 
marked by a romantic extravagance, and the 
present is distinguished by an indolent selfish- 
ness, our superiority is not so triumphantly de- 
cisive, as, in the vanity of our hearts, we may 
be ready to imagine. 

I do not wish to bring back the frantic reign 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 21 

of chivalry, nor to reinstate women in that fan- 
tastic empire in which they then sat enthroned 
in the hearts, or rather in the imaginations, of 
men. Common sense is an excellent material 
of universal application, which the sagacity of 
latter ages has seized upon, and rationally ap- 
plied to the business of common life. But let 
us not forget in the insolence of acknowledged 
superiority, that it was religion and chastity, 
operating on the romantic spirit of those times, 
which established the despotic sway of woman ; 
and though, in this altered scene of things, she 
now no longer looks down on her adoring vota- 
ries from the pedestal to which an absurd idola- 
try had lifted her, yet let her remember, that it 
is the same religion and the same chastity which 
once raised her to such an elevation, that must 
still furnish the noblest energies of her charac- 
ter ; must still attract the admiration, still retain 
the respect, of the other sex. 

While we lawfully ridicule the absurdities 
which we have abandoned, let us not plume 
ourselves on that spirit of novelty which glories 
in the opposite extreme. If the manners of the 
period in question were affected, and if the gal- 
lantry was unnatural, yet the tone of virtue was 
high ; and let us remember, that constancy, 
purity, and honor, are not ridiculous in them- 
selves, though they may unluckily be associated 
with qualities which are so ; and women of deli- 
cacy would do well to reflect, when descanting 
on those exploded manners, how far it be deco- 
rous to deride with too broad a laugh attach- 
ments which could subsist on remote gratifica- 
tions ; or grossly to ridicule the taste which led 
3 



22 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

the admirer to sacrifice pleasure to respect, and 
inclination to honor ; how far it be delicate to 
sneer at that purity which made self-denial a 
proof of affection ; to call in question the sound 
understanding of him who preferred the fame 
of his mistress to his own indulgence ; to bur- 
lesque that antiquated refinement which con- 
sidered dignity and reserve as additional titles 
to affection and reverence. 

We can not. but be struck with the wonderful 
contrast exhibited to our view, when we con- 
template the opposite manners of the two pe- 
riods in question. In the former, all the flower 
of Europe, smit with a delirious gallantry — all 
that was young, and noble, and brave, and 
great, with a fanatic frenzy and preposterous 
contempt of danger — traversed seas, and scaled 
mountains', and compassed a large portion of 
the globe, at the expense of ease, and fortune, 
and life, for the unprofitable project of rescuing, 
by force of arms, from the hands of infidels, the 
sepulchre of that Saviour, whom, in the other 
period, their posterity would think it the height 
of fanaticism so much as to name in good com- 
pany ; that Saviour, whose altars they desert, 
whose temples they neglect ; and though in 
more than one country at least they still call 
themselves by his name, yet too many, it is to 
be feared, contemn his precepts, still more are 
ashamed of his doctrines, and not a few reject 
his sacrifice. Too many consider Christianity 
rather as a political than a religious distinction ; 
too many claim the appellation of Christians, in 
mere opposition to that democracy with which 
they conceive infidelity to be associated, rather 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 23 

than from an abhorrence of impiety for its own 
sake ; too many deprecate the charge of irreli- 
gion, as the supposed badge of a reprobated 
party, more than on account of that moral cor- 
ruption which is its inseparable concomitant. 

On the other hand, in an age when inversion 
is the character of the day, the modern idea of 
improvement does not consist in altering, but 
extirpating. We do. not reform, but subvert. 
We do not correct old systems, but demolish 
them ; fancying that when every thing shall be 
new, it will be perfect. Not to have been 
wrong, but to have been at all, is the crime. 
Existence is sin. Excellence is no longer con- 
sidered as an experimental thing, which is to 
grow gradually out of observation and practice, 
and to be improved by the accumulating addi- 
tions brought by the wisdom of successive ages. 
Our wisdom is not a creature slowly brought, 
by ripening time and gradual growth, to per- 
fection ; but is an instantaneously created god- 
dess, which starts at once, full grown, nature, 
armed cap-a-pie, from the heads of our modern 
thunderers. Or rather, if I may change the al- 
lusion, a perfect system is now expected inevi- 
tably to spring spontaneously at once, like the 
fabled bird of Arabia, from the ashes of its pa- 
rent ; and, like that, can receive its birth no 
other way but by the destruction of its prede- 
cessor. 

Instead of clearing away what is redundant, 
pruning what is cumbersome, supplying what is 
defective, and amending what is wrong, we 
adopt the indefinite rage for radical reform of 



24 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

Jack, who, in altering Lord Peter's* coat, show- 
ed his zeal by crying out, " Tear away, brother 
Martin, for the love of Heaven ; never mind, 
so you do but tear away." 

This tearing system has unquestionably rent 
away some valuable parts of that strong, rich, 
native stuff, which formed the ancient texture 
of British manners. That we have , gained 
much, I am persuaded ; that we have lost noth- 
ing, I dare not therefore affirm. But though it 
fairly exhibits a mark of our improved judg- 
ment to ridicule the fantastic notions of love 
and honor in the heroic ages, let us not rejoice 
that the spirit of generosity in sentiment, and 
of ardor in piety, the exuberances of which 
were then so inconvenient, are now sunk as 
unreasonably low. That revolution of taste and 
manners which the unparalleled wit and genius 
of Don Quixote so happily effected throughout 
all the polished countries of Europe, by abolish- 
ing extravagances the most absurd and perni- 
cious, was so far imperfect, that some virtues 
which he never meant to expose, unjustly fell 
into disrepute with the absurdities which he 
did ; and it is become the turn of the present 
taste inseparably to attach, in no small degree, 
that which is ridiculous to that which is serious 
and heroic. Some modern works of wit have 
assisted in bringing piety and some of the nob- 
lest virtues into contempt, by studiously associ- 
ating them with oddity, childish simplicity, and 
ignorance of the world ; and unnecessary pains 
have been taken to extinguish that zeal and 

* Swift's "Tale of a Tub." 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 25 

ardor, which, however liable to excess and er- 
ror, are yet the spring of whatever is great and 
excellent in the human character. The novel 
of Cervantes is incomparable ; the Tartuffe of 
Moliere is unequalled ; but true generosity and 
true religion will never lose any thing of their 
intrinsic value, because knight-errantry and hy- 
pocrisy are legitimate objects for satire. 

But to return, from this too long digression, 
to the subject of female influence. Those who 
have not watched the united operation of vanity 
and feeling on a youthful mind, will not con- 
ceive how much less formidable the ridicule of 
all his own sex will be to a very young man, 
than that of those women to whom he has been 
taught to look up as the arbiters of elegance. 
Such a youth, I doubt not, might be able to 
work himself up, by the force of genuine Chris- 
tian principle, to such a pitch of true heroism, 
as to refuse a challenge (and it requires more 
real courage to refuse a challenge than to ac- 
cept one,) who would yet be in danger of re- 
lapsing into the dreadful pusillanimity of the 
world, when he is told that no woman of fashion 
will hereafter look on him but with contempt. 
While we have cleared away the rubbish of the 
Gothic acres, it were to be wished we had not 
retained the most criminal of all their institu- 
tions. Why chivalry should indicate a mad- 
man, while its leading object, the single com- 
bat, should indicate a gentleman, has not yet 
been explained. Nay, the plausible original 
motive is lost, while the sinful practice is con- 
tinued ; for the fighter of the duel no longer 
pretends to be a glorious redresser of the wrongs 
3* 



26 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

of strangers ; no longer considers himself as 
piously appealing to Heaven for the justice of 
his cause ; but, from the slavish fear of un- 
merited reproach, often selfishly hazards the 
happiness of his nearest connections, and al- 
ways comes forth in direct defiance of an ac- 
knowledged command of the Almighty. Per- 
haps there are few occasions on which female 
influence might be exerted to a higher purpose 
than on this, in which laws and conscience 
have hitherto effected so little. But while the 
duellist (who perhaps becomes a duellist only 
because he was first a seducer) is welcomed 
with smiles, the more hardy, dignified youth, 
who, not because he fears man, but God, de- 
clines a challenge, who is resolved to brave dis- 
grace rather than commit sin, would be treated 
with cool contempt by those very persons, to 
whose esteem he might reasonably have looked, 
as one of the rewards of his true and substan- 
tial fortitude. 

How then is it to be reconciled with the de- 
cisions of principle, that delicate women should 
receive with complacency the successful liber- 
tine, who has been detected by the wretched 
father or the injured husband in a criminal 
commerce, the discovery of which has too justly 
banished the unhappy partner of his crime from 
virtuous society ? Nay, if he happens to be 
very handsome, or very brave, or very fashiona- 
ble, is there not sometimes a kind of dishonora- 
ble competition for his favor? Is there not a 
sort of bad popularity attached to his attentions 1 
But, whether his flattering reception be derived 
from birth, or parts, or person, or (what is often 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 27 

a substitute for all) from his having made his 
way into good company, women of distinction 
sully the sanctity of virtue by the too visible 
pleasure they sometimes express at the atten- 
tions of such a popular libertine, whose voluble 
small-talk they admire, whose sprightly noth- 
ings they quote, whose vices they justify or ex- 
tenuate, and whom, perhaps, their very favor 
tends to prevent from becoming a better char- 
acter, because he finds himself more acceptable 
as he is. 

May I be allowed to introduce a new part of 
my subject, by remarking that it is a matter of 
inconceivable importance, though not, perhaps, 
sufficiently considered, when any popular work, 
not on a religious topic, but on any common 
subject, such as politics, history, or science, has 
happened to be written by an author of sound 
Christian principles 1 It may not have been 
necessary, nor prudently practicable, to have a 
single page in the whole work professedly reli- 
gious ; but still, when the living principle in- 
forms the mind of the writer, it is almost im- 
possible but that something of its spirit will dif- 
fuse itself even into subjects with which it 
should seem but remotely connected. It is at 
least a comfort to the reader, to feel that honest 
confidence which results from knowing that he 
has put himself into safe hands ; that he has com- 
mitted himself to an author, whose known princi- 
ples are a pledge that his reader need not be 
driven to watch himself at every step with anx- 
ious circumspection ; that he need not be look- 
ing on the right hand and on the left, as if he 
knew there were pitfalls under the flowers 



28 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

which are delighting him. And it is no small 
point gained, that on subjects in which you do 
not look to improve your religion, it is at least 
secured from deterioration. If the Athenian 
laws were so delicate that they disgraced any 
one who showed an inquiring traveller the 
wrong road, what disgrace among Christians 
should attach to that author, who, when a youth 
is inquiring the road to history or philosophy, 
directs him to blasphemy and unbelief?* 

In animadverting farther on the reigning 
evils which the times more particularly demand 
that women of rank and influence should re- 
press, Christianity calls upon them to bear their 
decided testimony against every thing which is 
notoriously contributing to the public corrup- 
tion. It calls upon them to banish from their 
dressing-rooms (and O that their influence could 
banish from the libraries of their sons and hus- 
bands!) that sober and unsuspected mass of 
mischief, which, by assuming the plausible 

* The author has often heard it mentioned as matter of regret, 
that Mr. Gibbon should have blemished his elegant history with 
two notoriously offensive chapters against Christianity. But 
does not this regret seem to imply that the work would, by this 
omission, have been left s.ife and unexceptionable? May we 
not rather consider these chapters as a fatal rock, indeed , but as 
a rock enlightened by a beacon, fahly and unequivocally warn- 
ing us of the surrounding perils 1 To change the metaphor — had 
not the mischiefs of these chapters been rendered thus conspicu- 
ous, the incautious reader would have been still left exposed to 
the fatal effects of the more disguised poison which is infused 
through almost every part of the volumes. Is it not obvious, that 
a spirit so virulent against revealed religion as these two chap- 
ters indicate, would be incessantly pouring out some of its infec- 
tious matter on every occasion, and would even industriously 
make the opportunities which it did not find? 

[The author's estimable friend, Mrs. Montague, thought differ- 
ently, for she bound up Gibbon's History without the two excep- 
tionable chapters , and, since the publication of this treatise, an 
expurgated edition of Gibbon's History has been edited by the 
late Mr. Bowlder.— Ed.] 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 29 

names of science — of philosophy — of arts — of 
belles letters, is gradually administering death 
to the principles of those who would be on their 
guard, had the poison been labelled with its 
own pernicious title. Avowed attacks upon 
revelation are more easily resisted, because the 
malignity is advertised. But who suspects the 
destruction which lurks under the harmless or 
instructive names of general history — natural 
history — travels, voyages — lives — encyclopedias 
— criticism — and romance 1 Who will deny 
that many of these works contain much admi- 
rable matter — brilliant passages, important facts, 
just descriptions, faithful pictures of nature, and 
valuable illustrations of science 1 But, while 
" the dead fly lies at the bottom," the whole 
will exhale a corrupt and pestilential stench. 

Novels, which chiefly used to be dangerous 
in one respect, are now become mischievous in 
a thousand. They are continually shifting their 
ground, and enlarging their sphere, and are 
daily becoming vehicles of wider mischief. 
Sometimes they concentrate their force, and 
are at once employed to diffuse destructive poli- 
tics, deplorable profligacy, and impudent infi- 
delity. Rousseau* was the first popular dis- 
penser of this complicated drug, in which the 
deleterious infusion was strong, and the effect 
proportionably fatal ; for he does not attempt to 

* Jean Jacques Rousseau was born at Geneva, in 1712, and 
died at Ermenonville, near Paris, in 1778. His remains were 
deposited in a spot calied the Isle of Poplars, with this epitaph, 
" Here lies the man of nature and of truth." This man of na- 
ture lived at variance with all the world ; and, so far from being 
a man of truth, he was a compound of paradoxes and contradic- 
tions. The works here censured are " Eloisa," and " Emi- 
lius."— Ed. 



\ 

30 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 



seduce the affections, but through the medium 
of the principles. He does not paint an inno- 
cent woman ruined, repenting, and restored ; 
but, with a far more mischievous refinement, he 
annihilates the value of chastity, and, with per- 
nicious subtlety, attempts to make his heroine 
appear almost more amiable without it. He ex- 
hibits a virtuous woman, the victim, not of 
temptation, but of reason ; not of vice, but of 
sentiment; not of passion, but of conviction; 
and strikes at the very root of honor, by elevat- 
ing a crime into a principle. With a meta- 
physical sophistry the most plausible, he de- 
bauches the heart of woman, by cherishing her 
vanity in the erection of a system of male vir- 
tues, to which, with a lofty dereliction of those 
that are her more peculiar and characteristic 
praise, he tempts her to aspire ; powerfully in- 
sinuating, that to this splendid system, chastity 
does not necessarily belong ; thus corrupting the 
judgment, and bewildering the understanding, 
as the most effectual way to inflame the imagi- 
nation and deprave the heart. 

The rare mischief of this author consists in 
his power of seducing by falsehood those who 
love truth, but whose minds are still wavering, 
and whose principles are not yet formed. He 
allures the warm-hearted to embrace vice, not 
because they prefer vice, but because he gives 
to vice so natural an air of virtue: an ardent 
and enthusiastic youth, too confidently tru.^ting 
in their integrity and in their teacher, will be 
undone, while they fancy they are indulging in 
the noblest feelings of their nature. Many au- 
thors will more infallibly complete the ruin of 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 31 

the loose and ill-disposed ; but, perhaps, there 
never was a net of such exquisite art and inex- 
tricable workmanship, spread to entangle inno- 
cence, and ensnare inexperience, as the writ- 
ings of Rousseau ; and, unhappily, the victim 
does not even struggle in the toils, because part 
of the delusion consists in his imagining that 
he is set at liberty. 

Some of our recent popular publications have 
adopted and enlarged all the mischiefs of this 
school ; and the principal evil arising from them 
is, that the virtues they exhibit are almost more 
dangerous than the vices. The chief materials 
out of which these delusive systems are framed, 
are characters who practise superfluous acts of 
generosity, while they are trampling on obvious 
and commanded duties ; who combine inflated 
sentiments of honor, with actions the most flacri- 
tons ; a high tone of self-confidence, with a per- 
petual neglect of self-denial ; pathetic apostro- 
phes to the passions, but no attempt to resist 
them. They teach, that chastity is only indi- 
vidual attachment ; that no duty exists which 
is not prompted by feeling; that impulse is the 
main spring of virtuous actions, while laws and 
religion are only unjust restraints ; the former 
imposed by arbitrary men, the latter by the ab- 
surd prejudices of timorous and unenlightened 
conscience. Alas ! they do not know that the 
best creature of impulse that ever lived, is but 
a wayward, unfixed, unprincipled being ! that 
the best natural man requires a curb, and needs 
that balance to the affections which Christianity 
alone can furnish, and without which, benevo- 
lent propensities are no security to virtue. And, 



32 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE 

perhaps, it is not too much to say, in spite of 
the monopoly of benevolence to which the new 
philosophy lays claim, that the human duties of 
the second table have never once been well 
performed by any of the rejectors of that previ- 
ous portion of the Decalogue which enjoins 
duty to God, 

In some of the most splendid of these char- 
acters, compassion is erected into the throne of 
justice, and justice degraded into the rank of 
plebeian virtues. It is considered as a noble 
exemplification of sentiment, that creditors 
should be defrauded, while the money due to 
them is lavished in dazzling acts of charity to 
some object that affects the senses ; which 
paroxysms of charity are made the sponge of 
every sin, and the substitute of every virtue : 
the whole indirectly tending to intimate how 
very benevolent people are who are not Chris-' 
tians. From many of these compositions, in- 
deed, Christianity is systematically, and always 
virtually, excluded ; for the law, and the 
prophets, and the Gospel, can make no part of 
a scheme in which this world is looked upon as 
all in all ; in which want and misery are con- 
sidered as evils arising solely from the defects 
of human governments, and not as making part 
of the dispensations of God ; in which poverty 
is represented as merely a political evil, and 
the restraints which tend to keep the poor 
honest, are painted as the most flagrant injus- 
tice. The Gospel can make no part of a sys- 
tem in which the absurd idea, of perfectibility 
is considered as applicable to fallen creatures ; 
in which the chimerical project of consummate 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 33 

earthly happiness (founded on the mad pre- 
tence of loving the poor better than God loves 
them) would defeat the divine plan, which 
meant this world for a scene of discipline, not 
of remuneration. The Gospel can have noth- 
ing to do with a system in which sin is reduced 
to a little human imperfection, and Old Bailey 
crimes are softened down into a few engaging 
weaknesses ; and in which the turpitude of all 
the vices a man himself commits, is done away 
by his candor in tolerating all the vices com- 
mitted by others.* 

But the part of the system the most fatal to 
that class whom I am addressing is, that even 
in those works which do not go all the length 
of treating marriage as an unjust infringement 
on liberty, and a tyrannical deduction from gen- 
eral happiness, yet it commonly happens that 
the hero or heroine, who has practically violated 
the letter of the seventh commandment, and 
continues to live in the allowed violation of its 
spirit, is painted as so amiable and so benevo- 
lent, so tender or so brave ; and the temptation 
is represented as so irresistible (for all these 
philosophers are fatalists), the predominant and 
cherished sin is so filtered and defecated of its 
pollutions, and is so sheltered, and surrounded, 
and relieved with shining qualities, that the in- 
nocent and impressible young reader is brought 

* It is to be lamented that some, even of those more virtuous 
novel writers, who intend to espouse the cause of religion, yet 
exhibit such false views of it. I have lately seen a work of some 
merit in this way, which was meritoriously designed to expose 
the impieties of the new philosophy. But the writer betrayed 
his own imperfect knowledge of the Christianity he was defend- 
ing, by making his hero, whom he proposed as a pattern, fight 
a duel ! 

4 



34 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

to lose all horror of the awful crime in question, 
in the complacency she feels for the engaging 
virtues of the criminal. 

There is another object to which I would 
direct the exertion of that power of female in- 
fluence of which I am speaking. Those ladies 
who take the lead in society, are loudly called 
upon to act as the guardians of the public taste, 
as well as of the public virtue. They are 
called upon, therefore, to oppose, with the 
whole weight of their influence, the irruption 
of those swarms of publications now daily issu- 
ing from the banks of the Danube, which, like 
their ravaging predecessors of the darker ages, 
though with far other and more fatal arms, are 
overrunning civilized society. Those readers,, 
whose purer taste has been formed on the cor- 
rect models of the old classic school, see with 
indignation and astonishment the Huns and 
Vandals once more overpowering the Greeks 
and Romans. They behold our minds with a 
retrograde but rapid motion, hurried back to 
the reign of " chaos and old night," by dis- 
torted and unprincipled compositions, which, in 
spite of strong flashes of genius, unite the taste 
of the Goths with the morals of Bagshot ;* 

Gorgons, and hydras, and chimeras dire ! 

These compositions terrify the weak, and amaze 
and enchant the idle ; while they disgust the 
discerning, by wild and misshapen superstitions, 
in which, with that consistency which forms so 

,* The newspapers announce that Schiller's tragedy of The 
Robbers, which inflamed the young nobility of Germany to en- 
list themselves into a band of highwaymen to rob in the forests 
of Bohemia, is now acting in England by persons of quality. 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 35 

striking a feature of the new philosophy, those 
who most earnestly deny the immortality of the 
soul, are most eager to introduce the machin- 
ery of ghosts. 

The writings of the French infidels were 
some years ago circulated in England with un- 
common industry, and with some effect; but 
the plain sense and good principles of the far 
greater part of our countrymen resisted the at- 
tack, and rose superior to the trial. Of the 
doctrines and principles here alluded to, the 
dreadful consequences, not only in the un- 
happy country where they originated, and were 
almost universally adopted, but in every part of 
Europe where they have been received, have 
been such as to serve as a beacon to surround- 
ing nations, if any warning can preserve them 
from destruction. In this country the subject 
is now so well understood, that every thing that 
issues from the French press is received with 
jealousy ; and a work, on the first appearance 
of its exhibiting the doctrines of Voltaire and 
his associates, is rejected with indignation. 

But let us not, on account of this victory, 
repose in confident security. The modern 
apostles of infidelity and immorality, little less 
indefatigable in dispersing their pernicious doc- 
trines than the first apostles were in propaga- 
ting Gospel truths, have indeed changed their 
weapons, but they have by no means desisted 
from the attack. To destroy the principles of 
Christianity in this island, appears at the pres- 
ent moment to be their grand aim. Deprived 
of the assistance of the French press, they are 
now attempting to attain their object under the 



36 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

close and artificial veil of German literature. 
Conscious that religion and morals will stand 
or fall together, their attacks are sometimes 
levelled against the one, and sometimes against 
the other. With strong occasional professions 
of general attachment to both of these, they en- 
deavor to interest the feelings of the reader, 
sometimes in favor of some one particular vice, 
at other times on the subject of some one ob- 
jection to revealed religion. Poetry as well as 
prose, romance as well as history, writings on 
philosophical as well as on political subjects, 
have thus been employed to instil the principles 
of Illuminism* while incredible pains have 
been taken to obtain able translations of every 
book which was supposed likely to be of use in 
corrupting the heart or misleading the under- 
standing. In many of these translations, certain 
bolder passages, which, though well received 
in Germany, would have excited disgust in 
England, are wholly omitted, in order that the 
mind may be more certainly, though more 

* Towards tho latter part of the eighteenth century, an infidel 
sect arose in Bavaria, under the name of the Illumiiiati, and soon 
spread throughout Germany. These enlighteners of the world 
had symbols, and a language of their own, somewhat like the 
Free Masons ; and, indeed, the confederates were considered as 
a branch of that order. Their real object, however, was to over- 
turn religion and civil government. " The freedom of inquiry," 
says Professor Robison in his account of this conspiracy, " was 
terribly abused ; and degenerated into a wanton licentiousness of 
thought, and a rage for speculation and skepticism on every sub- 
ject whatever. The struggle which was originally between the 
Catholics and Protestants, had changed, during the gradual 
progress of luxury and immorality, into a contest between reason 
and superstition. And in this contest, the denomination of super- 
stition had been gradually extended to every doctrine which pro- 
fessed to be of divine revelation, and reason was declared to be 
for certain the only way by which the Deity can inform the 
human mind." It need hardly be observed, that Illuminism 
made rapid progress in France. — Ed. 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 37 

slowly, prepared for the full effect of the same 
poison to be administered in a stronger degree 
at another period. 

Let not those, to whom these pages are ad- 
dressed, deceive themselves, by supposing this 
to be a fable ; and let them inquire most seri- 
ously whether I speak truth, in asserting that 
the attacks of infidelity in Great Britain are at 
this moment principally directed against the 
female breast. Conscious of the influence of 
women in civil society, conscious of the effect 
which female infidelity produced in France, 
they attribute the ill success of their attempts 
in this country to their having been hitherto 
chiefly addressed to the male sex. They are 
now sedulously laboring to destroy the religious 
principles of women, and in too many instances 
have fatally succeeded. For this purpose, not 
only novels and romances have been made the 
vehicles of vice and infidelity, but the same 
allurement has been held out to the women of 
our country, which was employed by the first 
philosophist to the first sinner — knowledge. 
Listen to the precepts of the new German en- 
lighteners, and you need no longer remain in 
that situation in which Providence has placed 
you ! Follow their examples, and you shall be 
permitted to indulge in all those gratifications 
which custom, not religion, has tolerated in the 
male sex ! 

Let us jealously watch every deepening shade 

in the change of manners ; let us mark every 

step, however inconsiderable, whose tendency 

is downwards. Corruption is neither stationary 

4* 



38 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

nor retrograde ; and to have departed from 
modesty, simplicity, and truth, is already to 
have made a progress. It is not only awfully 
true, that since the new principles have been 
afloat, women have been too eagerly inquisitive 
after these monstrous compositions ; but it is 
true also, that, with a new and offensive renun- 
ciation of their native delicacy, many women 
of character make little hesitation in avowing 
their familiarity with works abounding with 
principles, sentiments, and descriptions, " which 
should not be so much as named among them." 
By allowing their minds to come in contact with 
such contagious matter, they are irrecoverably 
tainting them ; and by acknowledging that 
they are actually conversant with such corrup- 
tions (with whatever reprobation of the author 
they may qualify their perusal of the book), 
they are exciting in others a most mischievous 
curiosity for the same unhallowed gratification. 
Thus they are daily diminishing in the young 
and the timid those wholesome scruples, by 
which, when a tender conscience ceases to be 
intrenched, all the subsequent stages of ruin 
are gradually facilitated. 

We have hitherto spoken only of the Ger- 
man writings ; but, because there are multi- 
tudes who seldom read, equal pains have been 
taken to promote the same object through the 
medium of the stage ; and this weapon is, of all 
others, that against which it is, at the present 
moment, the most important to warn the more 
inconsiderate of my countrywomen. 

As a specimen of the German drama, it may 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 39 

not be unseasonable to offer a few remarks on 
the admired play of the Stranger.* In this 
piece, the character of an adulteress, which, in 
all periods of the world, ancient as well as 
modern, in all countries, heathen as well as 
Christian, has hitherto been held in detestation, 
and has never been introduced but to be repro- 
bated, is for the first time presented to our 
view in the most pleasing and fascinating 
colors. The heroine is a woman who forsook 
a Jiusband the most affectionate and the most 
amiable, and lived for some time in a criminal 
commerce with her seducer. Repenting at 
length of her crime, she buries herself in re- 
tirement. The talents of the poet during the 
whole piece are exerted in attempting to ren- 
der this woman the object not only of the com- 
passion and forgiveness, but of the esteem and 
affection, of the audience. The injured hus- 
band, convinced of his wife's repentance, forms 
a resolution, which every man of true feeling and 
Christian piety will probably approve. He for- 
gives her offence, and promises through life his 
advice, protection, and fortune, together with 
every thing which can alleviate the misery of 
her condition, but refuses to replace her in the 
situation of his wife. But this is not sufficient 
for the German author. His efforts are em- 
ployed, and it is to be feared but too success- 
fully, in making the audience consider the hus- 
band as an unrelenting savage, while they are 
led by the art of the poet anxiously to wish to 
see an adulteress restored to the rank of women 

* By Kotzebue. 



40 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

who have not violated the most solemn cove- 
nant that can be made with man, nor disobeyed 
one of the most positive laws which has been 
enjoined by God. 

About the same time that this first attempt at 
representing an adulteress in an exemplary 
light, was made by a German dramatist, which 
forms an era in manners, a direct vindication 
of adultery was, for the first time, attempted by 
a woman, a professed admirer and imitator of 
the German suicide Werter. The female Wer- 
ter, as she is styled by her biographer, asserts, 
in a work entitled " The Wrongs of Women," 
that adultery is justifiable, and that the restric- 
tions placed on it by the laws of England con- 
stitute one of the wrongs of women* 

This leads me to dwell a little longer on this 
most destructive class in the whole wide range 
of modern corrupters, who effect the most des- 
perate work of the passions, without so much 
as pretending to urge their violence in extenu- 
ation of the guilt of indulging them. They so- 
licit this very indulgence with a sort of cold- 
blooded speculation, and invite the reader to 
the most unbounded gratifications, with all the 
saturnine coolness of a geometrical calculation. 
Theirs is an iniquity rather of phlegm than of 
spirit; and in the pestilent atmosphere they 
raise about them, as in the infernal climate 
described by Milton, 



* Mary Wolstonecraft Godwin, who preferred concubinage to 
marriage, and only submitted to the form of matrimony for the 
sake of preserving a decorous appearance in soci ty. S^ch is 
the account given of Mary in the memoir written by her hus- 
band. — Ed. 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 41 

The parching air* 
Burns frore, and frost performs th' effects of fire. 

This cool, calculating, intellectual wicked- 
ness eats out the very heart and core of virtue, 
and, like a deadly mildew, blights and shrivels 
the blooming promise of the human spring. 
Its benumbing touch communicates a torpid 
sluggishness which paralyzes the soul. It des- 
cants on depravity as gravely, and details its 
grossest acts as frigidly, as if its object were to 
allay the tumult of the passions, while it is let- 
ting them loose on mankind, by " plucking off 
the muzzle " of present restraint and future ac- 
countableness. The system is a dire infusion, 
compounded of bold impiety, brutish sensuality, 
and exquisite folly, which, creeping fatally 
about the heart, checks the moral circulation, 
and totally stops the pulse of goodness by the 
extinction of the vital principle ; thus not only 
choking the stream of actual virtue, but drying 
up the very fountain of future remorse and re- 
mote repentance. 

The ravages which some of the old offenders 
against purity made in the youthful heart, by 
the exercise of a fervid but licentious imagina- 
tion on the passions, resembled the mischief 
effected by floods, cataracts, and volcanoes. 
The desolation, indeed, was terrible, and the 
ruin was tremendous : yet it was a ruin which 
did not infallibly preclude the possibility of re- 
covery. The country, though deluged and de- 
vastated, was not utterly put beyond the power 

* " When the north windbloweth, it devoureth the mountains, 
and burneth the wilderness, and consumeth the grass as fire." 
Ecclus. xl. 20. 



42 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

of restoration. The harvests, indeed, were 
destroyed, and all was wide sterility. But 
though the crops were lost, the seeds of vegeta- 
tion were not absolutely eradicated ; so that, 
after a long and barren blank, fertility might 
finally return. 

But the heart once infected with this newly- 
medicated venom, subtle though sluggish in its 
operation, resembles what travellers relate of 
that blasted spot, the Dead Sea, where those 
devoted cities once stood, which for their pollu- 
tions were burnt with fire from heaven. It 
continues a stagnant lake of putrefying waters. 
No wholesome blade evermore shoots up ; the 
air is so tainted, that no living thing subsists 
within its influence. Near the sulphurous pool 
the very principle of being is annihilated. All 
is death, 

Death, unrepeatable, eternal death. 

But let us take comfort. These projects are 
not yet generally realized. These atrocious 
principles are not yet adopted into common 
practice. Though corruptions seem with a 
confluent tide to be pouring in upon us from 
every quarter, yet there is still left among us a 
discriminating judgment. Clear and strongly- 
marked distinctions between right and wrong 
still subsist. While we continue to cherish 
this sanity of mind, the case is not desperate. 
Though that crime, the growth of which always 
exhibits the most irrefragable proof of the dis- 
soluteness of public manners ; though that 
crime, which cuts up order and virtue by the 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 43 

roots, and violates the sanctity of vows, is 
awfully increasing, 

Till senates seem 
For purposes of empire less convened 
Than to release the adulteress from her bonds; 

yet, thanks to the surviving efficacy of a holy 
religion, to the operation of virtuous laws, and 
to the energy and unshaken integrity with 
which these laws are now administered ; and, 
most of all, perhaps, to a standard of morals 
which continues in force, when the principles 
which sanctioned it are no more ; this crime, 
in the female sex at least, is still held in just 
abhorrence. If it be practised, it is not honor- 
able ; if it be committed, it is not justified ; we 
do not yet affect to palliate its turpitude ; as yet 
it hides its abhorred head in lurking privacy ; 
and reprobation hitherto follows its publicity. 

But on your exerting your influence, with 
just application and increasing energy, may, in 
no small degree, depend whether this corrup- 
tion shall continue to be resisted. For the ab- 
horrence of a practice will too probably dimin- 
ish, of which the theory is perused with enthu- 
siasm. From admiring to adopting, the step is 
short, and the progress rapid ; and it is in the 
moral as in the natural world — the motion, in 
the case of minds as well as of bodies, is accel- 
erated, as they approach the centre to which 
they are tending. 

O ye to whom this address is particularly di- 
rected ! an awful charge is, in this instance, 
committed to your hands ; as you discharge it, 
or shrink from it, you promote or injure the 
honor of your daughters and the happiness of 



44 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

your sons, of both which you are the deposi- 
taries. And, while you resolutely persevere in 
making a stand against the encroachments of 
this crime, suffer not your firmness to be shaken 
by that affectation of charity, which is growing 
into a general substitute for principle. Abuse 
not so noble a quality as Christian candor, by 
misemploying it in instances to which it does 
not apply. Pity the wretched woman you dare 
not countenance ; and bless him who has 
" made you to differ." If, unhappily, she be 
your relation or friend, anxiously watch for the 
period when she shall be deserted by her be- 
trayer ; and see if, by your Christian offices, 
she can be snatched from a perpetuity of vice. 
But if, through the divine blessing on your 
patient endeavors, she should ever be awakened 
to remorse, be not anxious to restore the for- 
lorn penitent to that society against whose laws 
she has so grievously offended ; and remember, 
that her soliciting such a restoration furnishes 
but too plain a proof that she is not the pen- 
itent your partiality would believe ; since peni- 
tence is more anxious to make its peace with 
Heaven than with the world. Joyfully would a 
truly contrite spirit commute an earthly for an 
everlasting reprobation ! To restore a criminal 
to public society is, perhaps, to attempt her to 
repeat her crime, or to deaden her repentance 
for having committed it, as well as to insult 
and to injure that society ; while to restore a 
strayed soul to God will add lustre to your 
Christian character, and brighten your eternal 
crown. 

In the mean time, there are other evils, ulti- 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 45 

mately, perhaps, tending to this, into which we 
are falling, through that sort of fashionable 
candor which, as was hinted above, is among 
the mischievous characteristics of the present 
day ; of which period perhaps it is not the 
smallest evil, that vices are made to look so like 
virtues, and are so assimilated to them, that it 
requires watchfulness and judgment sufficiently 
to analyze and discriminate. There are cer- 
tain women of good fashion, who practise irreg- 
ularities not consistent with the strictness of 
virtue, while their good sense and knowledge 
of the world make them at the same time 
keenly alive to the value of reputation. They 
want to retain their indulgences, without quite 
forfeiting their credit ; but finding their fame 
fast declining, they artfully cling, by flattery 
and marked attentions, to a few persons of 
more than ordinary character ; and thus, till 
they are driven to let go their hold, continue to 
prop a falling fame. 

On the other hand, there are not wanting 
women of distinction of very correct general 
conduct, and of no ordinary sense and virtue, 
who, confiding with a high mind on what they 
too confidently call the integrity of their own 
hearts; anxious to deserve a good fame, on the 
one hand, by a life free from reproach, yet 
secretly too desirous, on the other, of securing 
a worldly and fashionable reputation ; while 
their general associates are persons of honor, 
and their general resort places of safety ; yet 
allow themselves to be occasionally present at 
the midnight orgies of revelry and gaming, in 
houses of no honorable estimation ; and thus 
5 



46 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

help to keep up characters which, without their 
sustaining hand, would sink to their just level 
of contempt and reprobation. While they are 
holding out this plank to a drowning reputa- 
tion, rather, it is to be feared, showing their 
own strength than assisting another's weakness, 
they value themselves, perhaps, on not par- 
taking of the worst parts of the amusements 
which may be carrying on ; but they sanction 
them by their presence ; they lend their coun- 
tenance to corruptions they should abhor, and 
their example to the young and inexperienced, 
who are looking about for some such sanction 
to justify them in that to which they were be- 
fore inclined, but were too timid to have ven- 
tured upon without the protection of such un- 
sullied names. Thus these respectable charac- 
ters, without looking to the general consequences 
of their indiscretion, are thoughtlessly employed 
in breaking down, as it were, the broad fence 
which should ever separate two very different 
sorts of society, and are becoming a kind of 
unnatural link between vice and virtue. 

There is a gross deception which even per- 
sons of reputation practise on themselves. 
They loudly condemn vice and irregularity as 
an abstract principle ; nay, they stigmatize 
them in persons of an opposite party, or in 
those from whom they themselves have no 
prospect of personal advantage or amusement, 
and in whom, therefore, they have no particu- 
lar interest to tolerate evil. But the same dis- 
orders are viewed without abhorrence when 
practised by those who in any way minister to 
their pleasures. Refined entertainments, luxu- 



ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 47 

rious decorations, select music, whatever fur- 
nishes any delight rare and exquisite to the 
senses — these soften the severity of criticism ; 
these palliate sins ; these varnish over the flaws 
of a broken character, and extort not pardon 
merely, but justification, countenance, inti- 
macy ! The more respectable will not, per- 
haps, go all the length of vindicating the dis- 
reputable vice, but they affect to disbelieve its 
existence in the individual instance ; or, failing 
in this, they will bury its acknowledged turpi- 
tude in the seducing qualities of the agreeable 
delinquent. Talents of every kind are consid- 
ered as a commutation for a few vices ; and 
such talents are made a passport to introduce 
into honorable society characters whom their 
profligacy ought to exclude from it. 

But the great object to which yoa, who are 
or may be mothers, are more especially called, 
is the education of your children. If we are 
responsible for the use of influence in the case 
of those over whom we have no immediate 
control, in the case of our children we are re- 
sponsible for the exercise of acknowledged 
poiver ; a power wide in its extent, indefinite 
in its effects, and inestimable in its importance. 
On you depend, in no small degree, the prin- 
ciples of the whole rising generation. To your 
direction the daughters are almost exclusively 
committed ; and, until a certain age, to you 
also is consigned the mighty privilege of form- 
ing the hearts and minds of your infant sons. 
To you is made over the awfully important 
trust of infusing the first principles of piety into 
the tender minds of those who may one day be 



48 ON THE EFFECTS OF INFLUENCE. 

called to instruct, not families merely, but dis- 
tricts ; to influence, not individuals, but sen- 
ates. Your private exertions may at this mo-> 
ment be contributing to the future happiness, 
your domestic neglect, to the future ruin, of 
your country. And may you never forget, in 
this your early instruction of your offspring, nor 
they, in their future application of it, that re- 
ligion is the only sure ground of morals ; that 
private principle is the only solid basis of public 
virtue. O, think that they both may be fixed 
or forfeited forever, according to the use you 
are now making of that power which God has 
delegated to you, and of which he will demand 
a strict account. By his blessing on your pious 
labors, may both sons and daughters hereafter 
" arise and call you blessed." And in the 
great day of general account, may every Chris- 
tian mother be enabled through divine grace to 
say, with humble confidence, to her Maker and 
Redeemer, " Behold the children whom thou 
hast given me ! " 

Christianity, driven out from the rest of the 
world, has still, blessed be God ! a " strong 
hold" in this country. And though it be the 
special duty of the appointed " watchman, now 
that he seeth the sword come upon the land, to 
blow the trumpet and warn the people, which, 
if he neglect to do, their blood shall be re- 
quired of the watchman's hand ;"* yet, in this 
sacred garrison, impregnable but by neglect, 
you too have an awful post, that of arming the 
minds of the rising race with the " shield of 

* Ezekiel xxxiii. 6. 



ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 49 

faith, whereby they shall be able to quench the 
fiery darts of the wicked ;" that of girding 
them with that " sword of the Spirit which is 
the word of God." Let that very period which 
is desecrated in a neighboring country by a 
formal renunciation of religion, be solemnly 
marked by you to purposes diametrically oppo- 
site. Let that dishonored era in which they 
avowed their resolution to exclude Christianity 
from the national education, be the precise mo- 
ment seized upon by you for its more sedulous 
inculcation. And while their children are sys- 
tematically trained to " live without God in the 
world," let yours, with a more decided empha- 
sis, be consecrated to promote his glory in it ! 

If you neglect this, your bounden duty, you 
will have effectually contributed to expel Chris- 
tianity from her last citadel. And remember, 
that the dignity of the work to which you are 
called, is no less than that of " preserving the 
ark of the Lord." 



CHAPTER II. 

On the education of women. — The prevailing system tends to 
establish the errors which it ought to correct.— Dangers arising 
from an excessive cultivation of the arts. 

It is far from being the object of this slight 
work to offer a regular plan of female educa- 

5* 



50 ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 

tion, a task which has been often more properly 
assumed by far abler writers ; but it is intended 
rather to suggest a few remarks on the reigning 
mode, which, though it has had many panegyr- 
ists, appears to be defective, not only in certain 
particulars, but as a general system. There 
are, indeed, numberless honorable exceptions 
to an observation which will be thought severe ; 
yet the author would ask, whether it be not the 
natural tendency of the prevailing and popular 
mode to excite and promote those very evils 
which it ought to be the main end and object 
of Christian instruction to remove ; whether 
the reigning system does not tend to weaken 
the principles it ought to strengthen, and to 
dissolve the heart it should fortify ; whether, 
instead of directing the grand and important 
engine of education to attack and destroy van- 
ity, selfishness, and inconsicleration, that triple 
alliance, in strict and constant league against 
female virtue — the combined powers of instruc- 
tion are not sedulously confederated in confirm- 
ing their strength and establishing their empire 1 
If, indeed, the material substance, if the 
body and limbs, with the organs and senses, be 
really the more valuable objects of attention, 
then there is little room for animadversion and 
improvement ; but if the immaterial and im- 
mortal mind ; if the heart, " out of which are 
the issues'of life," be the main concern ; if the 
great business of education be to implant right 
ideas, to communicate useful knowledge, to 
form a correct taste, and a sound judgment, to 
resist evil propensities, and, above all, to seize 
the favorable season for infusing principles and 



ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 5 1 

confirming habits ; if education be a school to 
fit us for life, and life be a school to fit us for 
eternity ; if such, I repeat it, be the chief work 
and grand ends of education, it may then be 
worth inquiring how far these ends are likely 
to be effected by the prevailing system. 

Is it not a fundamental error to consider 
children as innocent beings, whose little weak- 
nesses may, perhaps, want some correction, 
rather than as beings who bring into the world 
a corrupt nature and evil dispositions, which it 
should be the great end of education to rectify ? 
This appears to be such a foundation-truth, that 
if I were asked what quality is most important 
in an instructer of youth, I should not hesitate 
to reply, " Such a strong impression of the cor- 
ruption of our nature, as should ensure a dispo- 
sition to counteract it : together with such a 
deep view and thorough knowledge of the hu- 
man heart, as should be necessary for devel- 
oping and controlling its most secret and com- 
plicated workings." And let us remember, 
that to know the ivorld, as it is called, that is, 
to know its local manners, temporary usages, 
and evanescent fashions, is not to know human 
nature ; and that where this prime knowledge 
is wanting, those natural evils which ought to 
be counteracted will be fostered. 

Vanity, for instance, is reckoned among the 
light and venial errors of youth ; nay, so far 
from being treated as a dangerous enemy, it is 
often called in as an auxiliary. At worst, it is 
considered as a harmless weakness, which sub- 
tracts little from the value of a character ; as a 
natural effervescence, which will subside of 



52 ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 

itself, when the first ferment of the youthful 
passions shall have done working. But those 
persons know little of the conformation of the 
human, and especially of the female heart, who 
fancy that vanity is ever exhausted by the mere 
operation of time and events. Let those who 
maintain this opinion look into our places of 
public resort, and there behold if the ghost of 
departed beauty is not, to its last flitting, fond 
of haunting the scenes of its past pleasures. 
The soul, unwilling (if I may borrow an allu- 
sion from the Platonic mythology) to quit the 
spot in which the body enjoyed its former de- 
lights, still continues to hover about the same 
place, though the same pleasures are no longer 
to be found there. Disappointments, indeed, 
may divert vanity into a new direction; pru- 
dence may prevent it from breaking out into 
excesses, and age may prove that it is " vexa- 
tion of spirit ;" but neither disappointment, 
prudence, nor age can cure it ; for they do not 
correct the principle. Nay, the very disap- 
pointment itself serves as a painful evidence of 
its protracted existence. 

Since, then, there is a season when the 
youthful must cease to be young, and the beau- 
tiful to excite admiration, to learn how to grow 
old gracefully, is, perhaps, one of the rarest 
and most valuable arts which can be taught to 
woman. And it must be confessed it is a most 
severe trial for those women to be called to lay 
down beauty, who have nothing else to take up. 
It is for this sober season of life that education 
should lay up its rich resources. However dis- 
regarded they may hitherto have been, they 



ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 53 

will be wanted now. When admirers fall 
away, and flatterers become mute, the mind 
will be driven to retire into itself; and if it find 
no entertainment at home, it will be driven 
back again upon the world with increased 
force. Yet, forgetting this, do we not seem to 
educate our daughters exclusively for the tran- 
sient period of youth, when it is to maturer life 
we ought to advert ? Do we not educate them 
for a crowd, forgetting that they are to live at 
home? for the world, and not for themselves? 
for show, and not for use ? for time, and not 
for eternity ? 

Vanity (and the same may be said of selfish- 
ness) is not to be resisted like any other vice, 
which is sometimes busy, and sometimes quiet; 
it is not to be attacked as a single fault, which 
is indulged in opposition to a single virtue ; 
but it is uniformly to be controlled, as an 
active, a restless, a growing principle, at con- 
stant war with all the Christian graces ; which 
not only mixes itself with all our faults, but in- 
sinuates itself into all our virtues too; and 
will, if not checked effectually, rob our best 
actions of their reward. Vanity, if I may use 
the analogy, is, with respect to the other vices, 
what feeling is in regard to the other senses ; 
it is not confined in its operation to the eye, or 
the ear, or any single organ, but is diffused 
through the whole being, alive in every part, 
awakened and communicated by the slightest ' 
touch ! 

Not a few of the evils of the present day 
arise from a new and perverted application of 
terms : among these, perhaps, there is not one 



54 ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 

more abused, misunderstood, or misapplied, 
than the term " accomplishments." This word, 
in its original meaning, signifies completeness, 
perfection. But I may safely appeal to the ob- 
servation of mankind, whether they do not meet 
with swarms of youthful females, issuing from 
our boarding-schools, as well as emerging from 
the more private scenes of domestic education, 
who are introduced into the world, under the 
broad and universal title of " accomplished 
young ladies," of all of whom it cannot very 
truly and correctly be pronounced, that they 
illustrate the definition, by a completeness 
which leaves nothing to be added, and a per- 
fection which leaves nothing to be desired. 

This frenzy of accomplishments, unhappily, 
is no longer restricted within the usual limits 
of rank and fortune ; the middle orders have 
caught the contagion, and it rages downward 
with increasing and destructive violence, from 
the elegantly dressed but slenderly portioned 
curate's daughter, to the equally fashionable 
daughter of the little tradesman, and of the 
more opulent but not more judicious farmer. 
And is it not obvious, that as far as this epi- 
demical mania has spread, this very valuable 
part of society is declining in usefulness, as it 
rises in its ill-founded pretensions to elegance ? 
till this rapid revolution of the manners of the 
middle class has so far altered the character of 
the age, as to be in danger of rendering obso- 
lete the heretofore common saying, " that most 
worth and virtue are to be found in the middle 
station." For I do not scruple to assert, that, 
in general, as far as my little observation has 



ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 55 

extended, this class of females, in what relates 
both to religious knowledge and to practical in- 
dustry, falls short both of the very high and the 
very low. Their new course of education, and 
the indolent habits of life, and elegance of 
dress, connected with it, peculiarly unfits them 
for the active duties of their own very impor- 
tant condition ; while with frivolous eagerness, 
and second-hand opportunities, they run to 
snatch a few of those showy acquirements 
which decorate the great. This is done, ap- 
parently, with one or other of these views ; 
either to make their fortune by marriage, or, if 
that fail, to qualify them to become teachers of 
others; hence the abundant multiplication of 
superficial wives, and of incompetent and illit- 
erate governesses. The use of the pencil, the 
performance of exquisite but unnecessary works, 
the study of foreign languages and of music, 
require (with some exceptions which should 
always be made in favor of great natural genius) 
a degree of leisure which belongs exclusively 
to affluence.* One use of learning languages 
is, not that we may know what the terms which 
express the articles of our dress and our table 
are called in French or Italian ; nor that we 
may think over a few ordinary phrases in Eng- 
lish, and then translate them, without one 
foreign idiom ; for he who cannot think in a 
language, cannot be said to understand it ; but 
the great use of acquiring any foreign language 
is, either that it enables us occasionally to con- 

* Those among the class in question, whose own good sense 
leads them to avoid these mistaken pursuits, cannot be offended 
at a reproof which does not belong to them. 



56 ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 

verse with foreigners unacquainted with any 
other, or that it is a key to the literature of 
the country to which it belongs. Now, those 
humbler females, the chief part of whose time 
is required for domestic offices, are little likely 
to fail in the way of foreigners ; and, so far 
from enjoying opportunities for the acquisition 
of foreign literature, they have seldom time to 
possess themselves of much of that valuable 
knowledge which the books of their own coun- 
try so abundantly furnish, and the acquisition 
of which would be so much more useful and 
honorable than the paltry accessions they make, 
by hammering out the meaning of a few pas- 
sages in a tongue they but imperfectly under- 
stand, and of which they are never likely to 
make any use. 

It would be well if the reflection how eagerly 
this redundancy of accomplishments is seized 
on by their inferiors, were to operate as in the 
case of other absurd fashions : the rich and 
great being seldom brought to renounce any 
mode or custom, from the mere consideration 
that it is preposterous, or that it is wrong ; 
while they are frightened into its immediate 
relinquishment, from the pressing consideration 
that the vulgar are beginning to adopt it. 

But, to return to that more elevated, and, on 
account of their more extended influence only, 
that more important class of females, to whose 
use this little work is more immediately dedi- 
cated. Some popular authors on the subject of 
female instruction, had for a time established 
a fantastic code of artificial manners. They 
had refined elegance into insipidity, frittered 



ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 57 

down delicacy into frivolousness, and reduced 
manner in minauderie* " But to lisp, and to 
amble, and to nickname God's creatures," has 
nothing to do with true gentleness of mind ; 
and to be -silly makes no necessary part of 
softness. Another class of contemporary au- 
thors turned all the force of their talents to 
excite emotions, to inspire sentiment, and to re- 
duce all mental and moral excellence into sym- 
pathy and feeling. These softer qualities were 
elevated at the expense of principle ; and young 
women were incessantly hearing unqualified 
sensibility extolled as the perfection of their 
nature ; till those who really possessed this 
amiable quality, instead of directing, and chas- 
tising- and restraining - it, were in danger of fos- 

O J 3 7 © 

tering it to their hurt, and began to consider 
themselves as deriving their excellence from its 
excess ; while those less interesting damsels, 
who happened not to find any of this amiable 
sensibility in their hearts, but thought it cred- 
itable to have it somewhere, fancied its seat 
was in the nerves, — and here indeed it was 
easily found or feigned, — till a false and exces- 
sive display of feeling became so predominant, 
as to bring in question the actual existence of 
that true tenderness, without which, though a 
woman may be worthy, she can never be 
amiable. 

Fashion, then^ by one of her sudden and 
rapid turns, instantaneously struck out both 
real sensibility, and the affectation of it, from 
the standing list of female perfections ; and, 

* Affectation. 



58 ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 

by a quick touch of her magic wand, shifted 
the scene, and at once produced the bold and 
independent beauty, the intrepid female, the 
hoiden, the huntress, and the archer ; the 
swinging arms, the confident, address, the regi- 
mental, and the four-in-hand. Sucli self-com- 
placent heroines made us ready to regret their 
softer predecessors, who had aimed only at 
pleasing the other sex, while these aspiring fair 
ones struggled tor the bolder renown of rival- 
ing them : the project failed ; for, whereas the 
former had sued for admiration, the latter chal- 
lenged, seized, compelled it ; but the men, as 
was natural, continued to prefer the more mod- 
est claimant to the sturdy competitor. 

It would be well if we, who have the advan- 
tage of contemplating the errors of the two ex- 
tremes, were to look for truth where she is 
commonly to be found, in the plain and obvious 
middle path, equally remote from each excess ; 
and, while we bear in mind that helplessness is 
not delicacy, let us also remember that mascu- 
line manners do not necessarily include strength 
of character nor vigor of intellect. Should we 
not reflect also, that we are neither to train up 
Amazons nor Circassians, but that it is our 
business to form Christians? that we have to 
educate not only rational, but accountable 
beings? and, remembering this, should we 
not be solicitous to let our daughters learn of 
the well-taught, and associate with the well- 
bred ? In training them, should we not care- 
fully cultivate intellect, implant religion, and 
cherish modesty ? Then, whatever is engaging 
in manners would be the natural result of what- 



ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 59 

ever is just in sentiment, and correct in prin- 
ciple ; softness would* grow out of humility, and 
external delicacy would spring from purity of 
heart. Then the decorums, the proprieties, 
the elegances, and even the graces, as far as 
they are simple, pure, and honest, would follow 
as an almost inevitable consequence ; for to fol- 
low in the train of the Christian virtues, and 
not to take the lead of them, is the proper place 
which religion assigns to the graces. 

Whether we have made the best use of the 
errors of our predecessors, and of our own num- 
berless advantages, and whether the prevailing 
system be really consistent with sound policy, 
true taste, or Christian principle, it may be 
worth our while to inquire. 

Would not a stranger be led to imagine, by a 
view of the reigning mode of female education, 
that human life consisted of one universal holi- 
day, and that the grand contest between the 
several competitors was, who should be most 
eminently qualified to excel, and carry off the 
prize, in the various shows and games which 
were intended to be exhibited in it ? And to 
the exhibiters themselves, would he not be 
ready to apply Sir Francis Bacon's observation 
on the Olympian victors, that they were so ex- 
cellent in these unnecessary things, that their 
perfection must needs have been acquired by 
the neglect of whatever was necessary ? 

What would the polished Addison, who 
thought that one great end of a lady's learn- 
ing to dance was, that she might know how to 
sit still gracefully ; what would even the pagan 



60 ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 

historian* of the great Roman conspirator, who 
could commemorate it among the defects of this 
hero's accomplished mistress, " that she was too 
good a singer and dancer for a virtuous woman ;" 
— what would these refined critics have said, 
had they lived as we have done, to see the art 
of dancing lifted into such importance, that it 
cannot with any degree of safety be confided to 
one instructer ; but a whole train of successive 
masters are considered as absolutely, essential 
to its perfection 1 What would these accurate 
judges of female manners have said, to see a 
modest young lady first delivered into the hands 
of a military sergeant to instruct her in the 
feminine art of marching ? and when this deli- 
cate acquisition is attained, to see her trans- 
ferred to a professor, who. is to teach her the 
Scotch steps ; which professor, having commu- 
nicated his indispensable portion of this indis- 
pensable art, makes way for the professor of 
French dances ; and all perhaps, in their turn, 
either yield to, or have the honor to cooperate 
with, a finishing master ; each probably receiv- 
ing a stipend which would make the pious 
curate or the learned chaplain rich and happy 1 
The science of music, which used to be 
communicated in so competent a degree to a 
young lady by one able instructer, is now dis- 
tributed among a whole band. She now re- 
quires, not a master, but an orchestra. And 
my country readers would accuse me of exag- 
geration, were I to hazard enumerating the 
variety of musical teachers who attend at the 

* Sallust, in his account of Catiline. 



ON THE EDUCATION OP WOMEN. 61 

same time in the same family ; the daughters 
of which are summoned, by at least as many 
instruments as the subjects of Nebuchadnezzar, 
to worship the idol which fashion has set up. 
They would be incredulous, were I to produce 
real instances, in which the delighted mother 
has been heard to declare, that the visits of 
masters of every art, and the different masters 
for various gradations of the same art, followed 
each <!ther in such close and rapid succession 
during the whole London residence, that her 
girls had not a moment's interval to look into a 
book ; nor could she contrive any method to in- 
troduce one, till she happily devised the scheme 
of reading to them herself for half an hour while 
they were drawing, by which means no time 
was lost.* 

Before the evil is past redress, it will be pru- 
dent to reflect, that in all polished countries an 
entire devotedness to the fine arts has been one 
grand source of the corruption of the woman ; 
and so justly were these pernicious consequen- 
ces appreciated by the Greeks, among whom 
these arts were carried to the highest possible 
perfection, that they seldom allowed them to be 

* Since the first edition of this work appeared, the author has 
received from a person of great eminence the following state- 
ment, ascertaining the time employed in the acquisition of music 
in one instance. As a general calculation, it will, perhaps, he 
found to be so far from exaggerated, as to be below the truth. 
The statement concludes with remarking, that the individual 
who is the subject of it is now married to a man who dislikes 
music ! 

Suppose your pupil to begin at six years of age, and to continue 
at the average of four hours a dav only, Sunday excepted, and 
thirteen days allowed for travelling annually till she is eighteen, 
the statement stands thus : — 300 days multiplied by four, the 
number of hours amount to 1200; that number multiplied by 
twelve, which is the number of years, amounts to 14,400 hours J 

6* 



62 ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 

cultivated to a very exquisite degree by women 
of great purity of character. And if the ambi- 
tion of an elegant British lady should be fired 
by the idea that the accomplished females of 
those polished states were the admired com- 
panions of the philosophers, the poets, the wits, 
and the artists of Athens ; and their beauty or 
talents, so much the favorite subjects of the 
muse, the lyre, the pencil, and the chisel, that 
their pictures and statues furnished the most 
consummate models of Grecian art ; if, I say, the 
accomplished females of our day are panting for 
similar renown, let their modesty chastise their 
ambition, by recollecting that these celebrated 
women are not to be found among the chaste 
wives and the virtuous daughters of the Aristi- 
deses, the Agises, and the Phocions ; but that 
they are to be looked for among the Phrynes, 
the Laises, the Aspasias, and the Glyceras. I 
am persuaded the truly Christian female, what- 
ever be her taste or her talents, will renounce 
the desire of any celebrity when attached to 
impurity of character, with the same noble in- 
dignation with which the virtuous biographer 
of the above-named heroes renounced any kind 
of fame which might be dishonestly attained, 
by exclaiming, " I had rather it should be said 
there never was a Plutarch, than that they 
should say Plutarch was malignant, unjust, or 
envious,"* 

And while this corruption, brought on by an 
excessive cultivation of the arts, has contributed 



* No censure is levelled at the exertions of real genius, which 
is as valuable as it is rare ; but at the absurdity of that system 
which is erecting the whole sex into artists. 



ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 63 

its full share to the decline of states, it has al- 
ways furnished an infallible symptom of their 
impending fall. The satires of the most pene- 
trating and judicious of the Roman poets, cor- 
roborating the testimonies of the most accurate 
of their historians, abound with invectives 
against the general depravity of manners intro- 
duced by the corrupt habits of female educa- 
tion. The bitterness and gross indelicacy of 
some of these satirists (too gross to be either 
quoted or referred to) make little against their 
authority in these points ; for how shocking 
must those corruptions have been, and how ob- 
viously offensive their causes, which could have 
appeared so highly disgusting to minds so coarse 
as not likely to be scandalized by slight devia- 
tions from decency ! The famous ode of Hor- 
ace, attributing the vices and disasters of his 
degenerate country to the same cause, might, 
were it quite free from the above objections, be 
produced, I will not presume to say as an ex- 
act picture of the existing manners of this coun- 
try, but (may I not venture to say ?) as a pro- 
phecy, the fulfilment of which cannot be very 
remote. It may, however, be observed, that 
the modesty of the Roman matron, and the 
chaste demeanor of her virgin daughters, which, 
amidst the stern virtues of the state, were as 
immaculate and pure as the honor of the Ro- 
man citizen, fell a sacrifice to the luxurious 
dissipation brought in by their Asiatic con- 
quests ; after which, the females were soon 
taught a complete change of character. They 
were instructed to accommodate their talents of 
pleasing to the more vitiated tastes of the other 



64 ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 

sex ; and began to study every grace and every 
art which might captivate the exhausted hearts, 
and excite the wearied and capricious inclina- 
tions of the men ; till, by a rapid and at length 
complete enervation, the Roman character lost 
its signature, and, through a quick succession 
of slavery, effeminacy, and vice, sunk into that 
degeneracy of which some of the modern Italian 
states serve to furnish a too just specimen. 

It is of the essence of human things that the 
same objects which are highly useful in their 
season, measure, and degree, become mischiev- 
ous in their excess, at other periods and under 
other circumstances. In a state of barbarism, 
the arts are among the best reformers : and they 
go on to be improved themselves, and improv- 
ing those who cultivate them, till, having reach- 
ed a certain point, those very arts which were 
the instruments of civilization and refinement, 
become instruments of corruption and decay ; 
enervating and depraving, in the second in- 
stance, by the excess and universality of their 
cultivation, as certainly as they refined in the 
first. They become agents of voluptuousness. 
They excite the imagination ; and the imagina- 
tion thus excited, and no longer under the gov- 
ernment of strict principle, becomes the most 
dangerous stimulant of the passions ; promotes 
a too keen relish for pleasure, teaching how to 
multiply its sources, and inventing new and 
pernicious modes of artificial gratification. 

May we not rank among the present corrupt 
consequences of this unbounded cultivation, the 
unchaste costume, the impure style of dress, 
and that indelicate, statue-like exhibition of the 



ON THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN. 65 

female figure, which, by the its artfully disposed 
folds, its seemingly wet and adhesive drapery, 
so defines the form as to prevent covering itself 
from becoming a veil 1 This licentious mode, 
as the acute Montesquieu observed on the dan- 
ces of the Spartan virgins, has taught us " to 
strip chastity itself of modesty." 

May the author be allowed to address to our 
own country and our own circumstances, to 
both of which they seem peculiarly applicable, 
the spirit of that beautiful apostrophe of the 
most polished poet of antiquity to the most vic- 
torious nation 1 " Let us leave to the inhabitants 
of conquered countries the praise of carrying to 
the very highest degree of perfection, sculpture 
and the sister arts ; but let this country direct 
her own exertions to the art of governing man- 
kind in equity and peace, of showing mercy to 
the submissive, and of abasing the proud among 
surrounding nations."* 

* Let me not be suspecteil of bringing into any sort of compari- 
son the gentleness of British government with the rapacity of 
Roman conquests, or the tyrannical principles of Roman domin- 
ion. To spoil, to butcher, and to commit every kind of violence, 
they call, says one of the ablest of their historians, by the lying 
name of government; and when they have spread a general deso- 
lation, they call it -peace. f 

With such dictatorial, or, as we might now read, directorial in- 
quisitors, we can have no point of contact : and if I have applied 
the servile flattery of a delightful poet to the purpose of English 
happiness, it was only to show wherein true national grandeur 
consists, and that every country pays too dear a price for those 
arts and embellishments of society which endanger the loss of its 
morals and manners. 

f Tacitus's Life of Agricola — speech of Galgaeus to his soldiers. 



66 EXTERNAL IMPROVEMENT 



CHAPTER III. 

External Improvement.— Children's Balls.— French Governesses. 

Let me not, however, be misunderstoood. 
The customs which fashion has established, 
when they aie not in opposition to what is right, 
when they are not hostile to virtue, should un- 
questionably be pursued in the education of 
ladies. Piety maintains no natural war with 
elegance, and Christianity would be no gainer 
by making her disciples unamiable. Religion 
does not forbid that the exterior be made, to a 
certain degree, the object of attention. But the 
admiration bestowed, the sums expended, and 
the time lavished on arts, which add little to 
the intrinsic value of life, should have limita- 
tions. While these arts should be admired, let 
them not be admired above their just value ; 
while they are practised, let it not be to the ex- 
clusion of higher employments ; while they are 
cultivated, let it be to amuse leisure, not to en- 
gross life. 

But it happens unfortunately, that, to ordina- 
ry observers, the girl who is really receiving the 
worst instruction often makes the best figure ; 
while in the more correct but less ostensible 
education, the deep and sure foundations to 
which the edifice will owe its strength and sta- 
bility lie out of sight. The outward accomplish- 
ments have the dangerous advantage of address-* 
ing themselves more immediately to the senses, 



EXTERNAL IMPROVEMENT. 67 

and of course meet every where with those who 
Can in some measure appreciate, as we!! as ad- 
mire them ; for all can see and hear, but all 
cannot scrutinize and discriminate. External 
acquirements, too, recommend themselves the 
more, because they are more rapidly, as well as 
more visibly, progressive, while the mind is led 
on to improvement by slow motions and imper- 
ceptible degrees; while the heart must now be 
admonished by reproof, and now allured by 
kindness; its liveliest advances being suddenly 
impeded by obstinacy, and its brightest pros- 
pects often obscured by passion ; it is slow in 
its acquisitions of virtue, and reluctant in its 
approaches to piety ; and its progress, when 
any progress is made, does not obtrude itself to 
vulgar observation. The unruly and turbulent 
propensities of the mind are not so obedient to 
the forming hand, as defects of manner or awk- 
wardness of gait. Often, when we fancy that a 
troublesome passion is completely crushed, we 
have the mortification to find that we have 
" scotch'd the snake, not killed it." One evil 
temper starts up before another is conquered. 
The subduing hand cannot cut off the ever- 
sprouting heads so fast. as the prolific hydra can 
reproduce them, nor fell the stubborn Antseus 
so often as he can recruit his strength, and rise 
in vigorous and repeated opposition. 

Hired teachers are also under a disadvantage 
resembling tenants at rack-rent : it is their in- 
terest to bring in an immediate revenue of 
praise and profit, and, for the sake of a present 
rich crop, those who are not strictly conscien- 
tious, do not care how much the ground is im* 



68 EXTERNAL IMPROVEMENT. 

poverisbed for future produce. But parents, 
who are the lords of the soil, must look to per- 
manent value, and to continued fruitfulness. 
The best effects of a careful education are often 
very remote ; they are to be discovered in fu- 
ture scenes, and exhibited in as yet untried 
connections. Every event of life will be put- 
ting the heart into fresh situations, and making 
new demands on its prudence, its firmness, its 
integrity, or its forbearance. Those whose 
business it is to form and model it, cannot fore- 
see those contingent situations specifically and 
distinctly ; yet, as far as human wisdom will 
allow, they must enable it to prepare for them 
all by general principles, correct habits, and an 
unremitted sense of dependence on the great 
Disposer of events. As the soldier must learn 
and practise all his evolutions, though he do 
not know on what service his leader may com- 
mand him, by what particular foe he shall be 
most assailed, nor what mode of attack the 
enemy may employ, so must the young Chris- 
tian militant be prepared by previous discipline 
for actual duty. 

But the contrary of all this is the case with 
external acquisitions. The master — it is his 
interest — will industriously instruct his young 
pupil to set all her improvements in the most 
immediate and conspicuous point of view. To 
attract admiration, is the great principle sedu- 
lously inculcated into her young heart, and is 
considered as the fundamental maxim ; and, 
perhaps, if we were required to condense the 
reigning system of the brilliant education of a 
lady into an aphorism, it might be comprised in 



CHILDREN'S BALLS. 69 

this short sentence — to allure and to shine. 
This system, however, is the fruitful germ, from 
which a thousand yet unborn vanities, with all 
their multiplied ramifications, will spring. A 
tender mother cannot but feel an honest tri- 
umph in contemplating those talents in her 
daughter which will necessarily excite admira- 
tion ; but she will also shudder at the vanity 
that admiration may excite, and at the new 
ideas it will awaken ; and, startling as it may 
sound, the labors of a wise mother, anxious for 
her daughter's best interests, will seem to be at 
variance with those of all her teachers. She 
will, indeed, rejoice at her progress, but she 
will rejoice with trembling ; for she is fully 
aware, that if all possible accomplishments could 
be bought at the price of a single virtue, of a 
single principle, the purchase would be infinite- 
ly dear, and she should reject the dazzling, but 
destructive acquisition. She knows that the 
superstructure of the accomplishments can be 
alone safely erected on the broad and solid basis 
of Christian humility ; nay, more, that as the 
materials of which that superstructure is to be 
composed, are in themselves of so unstable and 
tottering a nature, the foundation must be deep- 
ened and enlarged with more abundant care, 
otherwise the fabric will be overloaded with its 
own ornaments, and what was intended only to 
embellish the building, will prove the occasion 
of its fall. 

" To every thing there is a season, and a 

time for every purpose under heaven/ 5 said the 

wise man ; but he said it before the invention 

of baby-balls ; an invention which has formed 

7 



tO CHILDREN'S BALLS. 

a kind of era, and a most inauspicious one, til 
the annals of polished education. This modern 
device is a sort of triple conspiracy against the 
innocence, the health, and the happiness of 
children. Thus, by factitious amusements, to 
rob them of a relish for the simple joys, the nn- 
bought delights, which naturally belong to their 
blooming season, is like blotting out spring from 
the year. To sacrifice the true and proper en- 
joyments of sprightly and happy children, is to 
make them pay a dear and disproportionate 
price for their artificial pleasures. They step 
at once from the nursery to the ball-room ; and, 
by a change of habits as new as it is preposter- 
ous, are thinking of dressing themselves, at an 
age when they used to be dressing their dolls. 
Instead of bounding with the unrestrained free* 
dom of little wood-nymphs over hill and dale, 
their cheeks flushed with health, and their 
hearts overflowing with happiness, these gay 
little creatures are shut up all the morning, de- 
murely practising the pas grave, and transact- 
ing the serious business of acquiring a new step 
for the evening, with more cost of time and 
pains than it would have taken them to acquire 
twenty new ideas. 

Thus they lose the amusements which pro* 
perly belong to their smiling period, and un- 
naturally anticipate those pleasures (such as 
they are) which would come in, too much of 
course, on their introduction into fashionable 
life. The true pleasures of childhood are cheap 
and natural ; for every object teems with de- 
light to eyes and hearts new to the enjoyment 
of life ; nay, the hearts of healthy children 



CHILDREN'S BALLS. 71 

abound with a general disposition to mirth and 
joyfulneps, even without a specific object to ex- 
cite it ; like our first parent, in the world's first 
spring, when all was new, and fresh, and gay 
about him, 

they live, and move, 
And fee] that they are happier than they know. 

Only furnish them with a few simple and harm- 
Jess materials, and a little, but not too much, 
leisure, and they will manufacture their own 
pleasures with more skill, and success, and 
satisfaction, than they will receive from all that 
your money can purchase. Their bodily recrea- 
tions should be such as will promote their 
health, quicken their activity, enliven their 
spirits, whet their ingenuity, and qualify them 
for their mental work. But, if you begin thus 
early to create wants, to invent gratifications, to 
multiply desires, to awaken dormant sensibili- 
ties, to stir up hidden fires, you are studiously 
laying up for your children a store of premature 
caprice and irritability, of impatience and dis- 
content, 

While childhood preserves its native simplici- 
ty, every little change is interesting, every grati- 
fication is a luxury. A ride or a walk, a gar- 
land of flowers of her own forming, a plant of 
her own cultivating, will be a delightful amuse- 
ment to a child in her natural state : but these 
harmless and interesting recreations will be dull 
and tasteless to a sophisticated little creature, 
nursed in such forced, and costly, and vapid 
pleasures. Alas ! that we should throw away 
this first, grand opportunity of working into a 



72 CHILDREN'S BALLS. 

practical habit the moral of this important truth, 
that the chief source of human discontent is to 
be looked for, not in our real, but in our facti- 
tious wants ; not in the demands of nature, but 
in the insatiable cravings of artificial desire. 

When we see the growing zeal to crowd the 
midnight ball with these pretty fairies, we should 
be almost tempted to fancy it was a kind of 
pious emulation among the mothers, to cure 
their infants of a fondness for vain and foolish 
pleasures, by tiring them out by this premature 
familiarity with them. And we should be so 
desirous to invent an excuse for a practice so 
inexcusable, that we should be ready to hope 
that they were actuated by something of the 
same principle which led the Spartans to intro- 
duce their sons to scenes of riot, that they might 
conceive an early disgust at vice! or, possibly, 
that they imitated those Scythian mothers who 
used to plunge their new-born infants into the 
flood, thinking none to be worth saving who 
could not stand this early struggle for their 
lives : the greater part, indeed, as it might have 
been expected, perished ; but the parents took 
comfort, that if many were lost, the few who 
escaped would be the stronger for having been 
thus exposed ! 

To behold lilliputian coquettes projecting 
dresses, studying colors, assorting ribands, mix- 
ing flowers, and choosing feathers ; their little 
hearts beating with hopes about partners, and 
fears about rivals ; to see their fresh cheeks 
pale after the midnight supper, their aching 
heads and unbraced nerves, disqualifying the 
little, languid beings for the next day's task ; 



FRENCH GOVERNESSES. 73 

and to hear the grave apology, " that it is 
owing to the wine, the crowd, the heated room 
of the last night's ball ;" all this, I say, would 
really be as ludicrous, if the mischief of the 
thing did not take off from the merriment of it, 
as any of the ridiculous and preposterous dis- 
proportions in the diverting travels of Captain 
Lemuel Gulliver ! 

Under a just impression of the evils which 
we are sustaining from the principles and the 
practices of modern France, we are apt to lose 
sight of those deep and lasting mischiefs which 
so long, so regularly, and so systematically we 
have been importing from the same country, 
though in another form, and under another gov- 
ernment. In one respect, indeed, the first were 
the more formidable, because we embraced the 
ruin without suspecting it ; while we defeat the 
malignity of the latter by detecting the turpi- 
tude, and defending ourselves against its con- 
tagion. This is not the place to descant on 
that levity of manners, that contempt of the 
Sabbath, that fatal familiarity with loose princi- 
ples, and those relaxed notions of conjugal fideli- 
ty, which have often been transplanted into this 
country by women of fashion, as a too common 
effect of a long residence in a neighboring na- 
tion ; but it is peculiarly suitable to my subject 
to advert to another domestic mischief derived 
from the same foreign extraction ; I mean the 
risks that have been run, and the sacrifices 
which have been made, in order to furnish our 
young ladies with the means of acquiring the 
French language in the greatest possible purity. 

Perfection in this accomplishment has been so 

7# 



74 FRENCH GOVERNESSES. 

long established as the supreme object— so long 
considered as the predominant excellence to 
which all other excellences must bow down — 
that it would be hopeless to attack a law which 
fashion has immutably decreed, and which has 
received the stamp of long prescription. We 
must, therefore, be contented with expressing a 
wish, that this indispensable perfection could 
have been attained at the expense of sacrifices 
less important. It is with the greater regrei I 
animadvert on this and some other prevailing 
practices, as they are errors into which the wise 
and respectable have, through want of consid- 
eration, or rather through want of firmness to 
resist the tyranny of fashion, sometimes fallen. 
It has not been unusual when mothers of rank 
and reputation have been asked how they ven- 
tured to intrust their daughters to foreigners, of 
whose principles they knew nothing, except 
that they were Roman Catholics, to answer, 
" That they had taken care to be secure on that 
subject ; for that it had been stipulated that the 
question of religion should never be agitated be- 
tween the teacher and the pupil." This, it must 
be confessed, is a most desperate remedy ; it is 
like starving to death to avoid being poisoned. 
And who can help trembling for the event of 
that education, from which religion, as far as 
the governess is concerned, is thus formally and 
systematically excluded 1 Surely, it would not 
be exacting too much, to suggest at least that 
an attention no less scrupulous should be exert- 
ed to ensure the character of our children's in- 
structer for piety and knowledge,, than is thought 



FRENCH GOVERNESSES. 75 

necessary to ascertain that she has nothing 
patois in her dialect. 

I would rate a correct pronunciation and an 
elegant phraseology at their just price, and I 
would not rate them low ; but I would not offer 
up piety and principle as victims to sounds and 
accents. And the matter is now made more easy ; 
for, whatever disgrace it might once have brought 
on an English lady to have had it suspected 
from her accent that she had the misfortune not 
to be born in a neighboring country, some re- 
cent events may serve to reconcile her to the 
suspicion of having been bred in her own — a 
country, to which (with all its sins, which are 
many !) the whole world is looking up with 
envy and admiration, as the seat of true glory 
and of comparative happiness ! — a country, in. 
which the exile, driven out by the crimes of his 
own, finds a home ! — a country, to obtain the 
protection of which it was claim enough to be 
unfortunate ; and no impediment to have been 
the subject of her direst foe ! — a country, which, 
in this respect, humbly imitating the Father of 
compassion, when it offered mercy to a sup- 
pliant enemy, never conditioned for merit, nor 
insisted on the virtues of the miserable as a pre- 
liminary to its own bounty ! 

"England! with all thy faults, I love thee still !" 



76 EDUCATION OF THE LAST AGE 



CHAPTER IV. 

Comparison of the mode of female education in the last age with 
the present. 

To return, however, to the subject of general 
education. We admit that a young lady may 
excel in speaking French and Italian ; may re- 
peat a lew passages from a volume of extracts ; 
play like a professor, and sing like a siren ; 
have her dressing-room decorated with her own 
drawings, tables, stands, flower-pots, screens, 
and cabinets ; nay, she may dance like Sem- 
pronia* herself, and yet we shall insist that she 
may have been very badly educated. I am far 
from meaning to set no value whatever on any 
or all of these qualifications ; they are all of 
them elegant, and many of them properly tend 
to the perfecting of a polite education. These 
things, in their measure and degree, may be 
done, but there are others which should not be 
left undone. Many things are becoming, but 
" one thing is needful." Besides, as the world 
seems to be fully apprized of the value of what- 
ever tends to embellish life, there is less occa- 
sion here to insist on its importance. 

But, though a well-bred young lady may law- 
fully learn most of the fashionable arts, yet, let 
me ask, — Does it seem to be the true end of 
education to make women of fashion dancers, 

* See Catiline's conspiracy, by Sallust. 



COMPARED WITH THE PRESENT. 77 

singers, players, painters, actresses, sculptors, 
gilders, varnishers, engravers, and embroider- 
ers ? Most men are commonly destined to some 
profession, and their minds are consequently 
turned each to its respective object. Would it 
not be strange if they were called out to exer- 
cise their profession, or to set up their trade, 
with only a little general knowledge of the 
trades and professions of all other men, and 
without any previous definite application to their 
own peculiar calling 1 The profession of ladies, 
to which the bent of their instruction should be 
turned, is that of daughters, wives, mothers, and 
mistresses of families. They should be there- 
fore trained with a view to these several condi- 
tions, and be furnished with a stock of ideas, 
and principles, and qualifications, and habits, 
ready to be applied and appropriated, as occa- 
sion may demand, to each of these respective 
situations. For though the arts which merely 
embellish life must claim admiration, yet, when 
a man of sense comes to marry, it is a com- 
panion whom he wants, and not an artist. It 
is not merely a creature who can paint, and 
play, and sing, and draw, and dress, and dance; 
it is a being who can comfort and counsel him; 
one who can reason, and reflect, and feel, and 
judge, and discourse, and discriminate ; one 
who can assist him in his affairs, lighten his 
cares, soothe his sorrows, purify his joys, 
strengthen his principles, and educate his chil- 
dren. 

Almost any ornamental acquirement is a good 
thincr, when it is not the best thing a woman 
has ; and talents are admirable, when not made 



78 EDUCATION OF THE LAST AGE 

to stand proxy for virtues. The writer of these 
pages is intimately acquainted with several la- 
dies, who, excelling most of their sex in the art 
of music, but excelling them also in prudence 
and piety, find little leisure or temptation, 
amidst the delights and duties of a large and 
lovely family, for the exercise of this charming 
talent ; they regret that so much of their own 
youth was wasted in acquiring an art which 
can be turned to so little account in married 
life, and are now conscientiously restricting their 
daughters in the portion of time allotted to its 
acquisition, 

Far be it from me to discourage the cultiva- 
tion of any existing talent ; but may it not be 
questioned of the fond, believing mother, wheth- 
er talents, like the spirits of Owen Glendower, 
though conjured by parental partiality with ever 
so loud a voice, 

Yet will they come when you do call for thenil 

That injudicious practice, therefore, cannot 
be too much discouraged, of endeavoring to 
create talents which do not exist in nature. 
That their daughters shall learn every thing, 
is so general a maternal maxim, that even un- 
born daughters — of whose expected abilities and 
conjectured faculties, it is presumed, no very 
accurate judgment can previously be formed — 
are yet predestined to this universality of ac- 
complishments. This comprehensive maxim, 
thus almost universally brought into practice, 
at once weakens the general powers of the 
mind, by drawing off its strength into too great 
a variety of directions ; and cuts up time into 



COMPARED WITH THE PRESENT. 79 

loo many separate portions, by splitting it into 
such an endless multiplicity of employments. I 
know that I am treading on tender ground ; 
but I cannot help thinking that the restless 
pains we take to cram up every little vacuity of 
life, by crowding one new thing upon another, 
rather creates a thirst for novelty than knowl- 
edge, and is but a well-disguised contrivance to 
anticipate the keeping us in after-life more ef- 
fectually from conversing with ourselves. The 
care taken to prevent ennui is but a creditable 
plan for promoting self-ignorance. We run 
from one occupation to another (I speak of 
those arts to which little intellect is applied,) 
with a view to lighten the pressure of time ; 
above all, we fly to them, to save us from our 
own thoughts; we fly to them, to rescue us 
from ourselves ; whereas, were we thrown a lit- 
tle more on our own hands, we might at last 
be driven, by way of something to do, to try to 
get acquainted with our own hearts. But it is 
only one part of the general inconsistency of 
the human character, that with the person of 
all others we best love, we least like to converse 
and to form an intimacy ; I mean, ourselves. 
But though our being less absorbed by this busy 
trifling, which dignifies its inanity with the im- 
posing name of occupation, might render us 
somewhat more sensible of the tedium of life, 
yet might not this very sensation tend to quick- 
en our pursuit of a better ? For an awful 
thought here suggests itself. If life be so long 
that we are driven to set at work every engine 
to pass away the tediousness of time, how shall 
we do to get rid of the tediousness of eternity l 



80 EDUCATION OF THE LAST AGE 

an eternity in which not one of the acquisitions 
which life has been exhausted in acquiring, 
will be of the least use 1 Let not then the soul 
be starved by feeding it on such unsubstantial 
aliment ; for the mind can be no more nour- 
ished by these empty husks than the body can 
be fed with ideas and principles. 

Among the boasted improvements of the 
present age, none affords more frequent matter 
of peculiar exultation, than the manifest supe- 
riority in the employments of the young ladies 
of our time over those of the good housewives 
of the last century. It is matter of general 
triumph that they are at present employed in 
learning the polite arts, or in acquiring liberal 
accomplishments ; while it is insisted that their 
forlorn predecessors wore out their joyless days 
in adorning the mansion-house with hideous 
hangings of sorrowful tapestry and disfiguring 
tent-stich. Most cheerfully do I allow to the 
reigning modes their just claim of boasted su- 
periority ; for certainly there is no piety in bad 
taste. Still, granting all the deformity of the 
exploded ornaments, one advantage attended 
them : the walls and floors were not vain of 
their decorations ; and it is to be feared, that 
the little person sometimes is. The flattery 
bestowed on the obsolete employments — for 
probably even they had their flatterers — furnish- 
ed less aliment to selfishness, and less gratifica- 
tion to vanity; and the occupation itself was 
less likely to impair the delicacy and modesty 
of the sex, than the exquisite cultivation of per- 
sonal accomplishments or personal decorations ; 
and every mode which keeps down vanity and 



COMPARED WITH THE PRESENT. 81 

keeps back self, has at least a moral use. For 
while we admire the rapid movement of the 
elegant fingers of a young lady busied in work- 
ing or painting her ball dress, we cannot help 
suspecting that her alacrity may be a little 
stimulated by the animating idea how very well 
she shall look in it. Nor was the industrious 
matron of Ithaca* more soothed at her solitary 
loom with the sweet reflection that by her labor 
she was gratifying her filial and conjugal feel- 
ings, than the industrious but pleasure-loving 
damsel of Britain is gratified by the anticipated 
admiration which her ingenuity is procuring 
for her beauty. 

Might not this propensity be a little checked, 
and an interesting feeling be combined with 
her industry, were the fair artist habituated to 
exercise her skill in adorning some one else 
rather than herself? For it will add no light- 
ness to the lightest head, nor vanity to the 
vainest heart, to solace her labors in reflecting 
how exceedingly the gown she is working will 
become her mother. This suggestion, trifling 
as it may seem, of habituating young ladies to 
exercise their taste and devote their leisure, 
not to the decoration of their own persons, but 
to the service of those to whom they are bound 
by every tender tie of love and duty, would not 
only help to repress vanity, but, by thus associ- 
ating the idea of industry with that of filial 
tenderness, would promote while it gratified 
some of the best affections of the heart. The 
Romans (and it is mortifying on the subject of 

* Penelope; see Homer's Odyssey. 



82 EDUCATION OF THE LAST AGE 

Christian education to be driven so often to re- 
fer to the superiority of pagans) were so well 
aware of the importance of keeping up a sense 
of family fondness and attachment by the very 
same means which promoted simple and do- 
mestic employment, that no citizen of note 
ever appeared in public in any garb but what 
was spun by his wife and daughter : and this 
virtuous fashion was not confined to the early 
days of republican severity, but, even in all the 
pomp and luxury of imperial power, Augustus 
preserved in his own family this simplicity of 
primitive manners. 

Let me be allowed to repeat, that I mean not 
with preposterous praise to descant on the igno- 
rance or the prejudices of past times, nor ab- 
surdly to regret that vulgar system of education 
which rounded the little circle of female ac- 
quirements within the limits of the sampler and 
the receipt-book. Yet, if a preference almost 
exclusive was then given to what was merely 
useful, a preference almost equally exclusive 
also is now assigned to what is merely orna- 
mental. And it must be owned, that if the 
life of a young lady, formerly, too much 
resembled the life of a confectioner, it now too 
much resembles that of an actress ; the morn- 
ing is all rehearsal, and the evening is all per- 
formance. And those who are trained in this 
regular routine, who are instructed in order to 
be exhibited, soon learn to feel a sort of impa- 
tience in those societies in which their kind of 
talents are not likely to be brought into play : 
the task of an auditor becomes dull to her who 
has been used to be a performer. Esteem and 



COMPARED WITH THE PRESENT. 83 

kindness become but cold substitutes to one 
who has been fed on plaudits, and pampered 
with acclamations : and the excessive commen- 
dation which the visitor is expected to pay for 
his entertainment, not only keeps alive the 
flame of vanity in the artist, by constant fuel, 
but is not seldom exacted at a price which a 
veracity at all strict would grudge. The mis- 
fortune is, when a whole circle are obliged to 
be competitors who shall flatter most, it is not 
easy to be at once very sincere and very civil. 
And, unfortunately, while the age is become so 
knowing, and so fastidious, that, if a young 
lady does not play like a public performer, no 
one thinks her worth attending to ; yet if she 
does so excel, some of the soberest of the ad- 
miring circle feel a strong alloy to their pleas- 
ure, on reflecting at what a vast expense of 
time this perfection must probably have been 
acquired.* 

The study of the fine arts, indeed, is forced 
on young persons, with or without genius 
(fashion, as was said before, having swallowed 
up that distinction), to such excess, as to vex, 
fatigue, and disgust those who have no talents, 
and to determine them, as soon as they become 
free agents, to abandon all such tormenting ac- 
quirements. While, by this incessant compul- 
sion, still more pernicious effects are often pro- 

* That accurate judge of the human heart, Madame de Main- 
tenon, was so well aware of the danger resulting from some 
kinds of excellence, that, after the young ladies of the court of 
Louis GLuatorze had distinguished themselves bv the nerfoimance 
of some dramatic pieces of Racine, when her friends told her 
how admirably they had played their parts : " Yes," answered 
this wise woman, " so admirably that they shall never play 
again." 



84 EDUCATION OF THE LAST AGE, &c. 

duced on those who actually possess genius; 
for the natural, constant reference in the mind 
to that public performance for which they are 
sedulously cultivating this talent, excites the 
same passions of envy, vanity, and competition 
in the dilettanti performers, as might be sup- 
posed to stimulate professional candidates for 
fame and profit at public games and theatrical 
exhibitions. Is this emulation, is this spirit of 
rivalry, is this hunger after public praise, the 
temper which prudent parents would wish to 
excite and foster ? Besides, in any event, the 
issue is not favorable. If the young performers 
are timid, they disgrace themselves and distress 
their friends ; if courageous, their boldness 
offends still more than their bad performance. 
Shall they then be studiously brought into situ- 
ations in which failure discredits and success 
disgusts ? 

May I venture, without being accused of 
pedantry, to conclude this chapter with another 
reference to pagan examples? The Hebrews, 
Egyptians, and Greeks, believed that they 
could more effectually teach their youth maxims 
of virtue, by calling in the aid of music and 
poetry ; these maxims, therefore, they put into 
verses, and these verses were set to the most 
popular and simple tunes, which the children 
sang ; thus was their love of goodness excited 
by the very instruments of their pleasure ; and 
the senses, the taste, and the imagination, as it 
were, pressed into the service of religion and 
morals. Dare I appeal to Christian parents, if 
these arts are commonly used by them, as sub- 
sidiary to religion, and to a system of morals 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 85 

much more worthy of every, ingenious aid and 
association, which might tend to recommend 
them to the youthful mind ? Dare I appeal to 
Christian parents, whether music, which fills 
up no trifling portion of their daughters' time, 
does not fill it without any moral end, or even 
without any specific object ? Nay, whether 
some of the favorite songs of polished societies 
are not amatory, are not Anacreontic, more 
than quite become the modest lips of innocent 
youth and delicate beauty ? 



CHAPTER V. 

On the religious employment of time. — On the manner in which 
holidays are passed. — Selfishness and inconsideration consid- 
ered. — Dangers arising from the world. 

There are many well-disposed parents, who, 
while they attend to these fashionable acquire- 
ments, do not neglect to infuse religious knowl- 
edge into the minds of their children ; and, 
having done this, are but too apt to conclude 
that they have done all, and have fully acquit- 
ted themselves of the important duties of edu- 
cation. For, having, as they think, sufficiently 
grounded their daughters in religion, they do 
not scruple to allow them to spend almost the 
whole of their time exactly like the daughters 
8* 



86 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

of worldly people. Now, though it be one great 
point gained, to have imbued their young minds 
with the best knowledge, the work is not, 
therefore, by any means accomplished. " What 
do ye more than others?" is a question which, 
in a more extended sense, religious parents 
must be prepared to answer. 

Such parents should go on to teach children 
the religious use of time, the duty of conse- 
secrating to God every talent, every faculty, 
every possession, and of devoting their whole 
lives to his glory. People of piety should be 
more peculiarly on their guard against a spirit 
of idleness, and a slovenly, habitual wasting of 
time, because this practice, by not assuming a 
palpable shape of guilt, carries little alarm to 
the conscience. Even religious characters are 
in danger on this side ; for, not allowing them- 
selves to follow the world in its excesses and 
diversions, they have, consequently, more time 
upon their hands ; and, instead of dedicating 
the time so rescued to its true purposes, they 
sometimes make, as it were, compensation to 
themselves for their abstinence from dangerous 
places of public resort, by an habitual frivolous- 
ness at home ; by a superabandance of unprofi- 
table small-talk, idle reading, and a quiet and 
dull frittering away of time. Their day, per- 
haps, has been more free from actual evil ; but 
it will often be discovered to have been as un- 
productive as that of more worldly characters ; 
and they will be found to have traded to as 
little purpose with their Master's talents. But 
a Christian must take care to keep his con- 
science peculiarly alive to the unapparent 
though formidable perils of unprofitableness. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 87 

To these, and to all, the author would earn- 
estly recommend to accustom their children to 
pass at once from serious business to active and 
animated recreation ; they should carefully pre- 
serve them from those long and torpid intervals 
between both, that languid indolence and spir- 
itless trifling, that merely getting rid of the day 
without stamping on it any characters of active 
goodness or of intellectual profit, that inane 
drowsiness which wears out such large portions 
of life in both young and old. It has, indeed, 
passed into an aphorism, that activity is neces- 
sary to virtue, even among those who are not 
apprized that it is also indispensable to happi- 
ness. So far are many parents from being sen- 
sible of this truth, that vacations from school 
are not merely allowed, but appointed to pass 
away in wearisome sauntering and indetermi- 
nate idleness; and this is done by erring ten- 
derness, by way of converting the holidays into 
pleasure ! Nay, the idleness is specifically 
made over to the child's mind, as the strongest 
expression of the fondness of the parent. A 
dislike to learning is thus systematically ex- 
cited by preposterously erecting indolence into 
a reward for application. And the promise of 
doing nothing is held out as the strongest 
temptation, as well as the best recompense, for 
having done well ! 

These, and such like errors of conduct, arise 
from the latent, but very operating principle of 
selfishness. This principle is obviously pro- 
moted by many habits and practises seemingly 
of little importance ; and, indeed, selfishness is 
so commonly interwoven with vanity and incon- 



88 ON SELFISHNESS. 

sideration, that I have not always thought it 
necessary to mark the distinction. They are 
alternately cause and effect ; and are produced 
and reproduced by reciprocal operation. They 
are a joint confederacy, who are mutually 
promoting each other's strength and interest; 
they are united by almost inseparable ties, and 
the indulgence of either is the gratification of 
all. Ill-judging tenderness is, in fact, only a 
concealed self-love, which cannot bear to be 
witness to the uneasiness which a present dis- 
appointment, or difficulty, or vexation, would 
cause to a darling child ; but which yet does 
not scruple by improper gratification to store 
up for it future miseries, which the child will 
infallibly suffer, though it may be at a distant 
period, which the selfish mother does not dis- 
turb herself by anticipating, because she thinks 
she may be saved the pain of beholding. 

Another principle, something different from 
this, though it may properly fall under the head 
of selfishness, seems to actuate some parents in 
their conduct towards their children : I mean, 
a certain slothfulness of mind, a love of ease, 
which imposes a voluntary blindness, and makes 
them not choose to see what will give them 
trouble to combat. From the persons in ques- 
tion we frequently hear such expressions as 
these, " Children will be children." — "My 
children, I suppose, are much like those of 
other people," &c. Thus, we may observe 
this dangerous and delusive principle frequently 
turning off with a smile from the first indica- 
tions of those tempers, which, from their fatal 
tendency, ought to be very seriously taken up. 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 89 

I would be understood now as speaking to con- 
scientious parents, who consider it as a general 
duty to correct the faults of their children, but 
who, from this indolence of mind, are ex- 
tremely backward in discovering such faults, 
and are not very well pleased when they are 
pointed out by others. Such parents will do 
well to take notice, that whatever they consider 
it is a duty to correct, must be equally a duty 
to endeavor to find out. And this indolent 
love of ease is the more to be guarded against, 
as it not only leads parents into erroneous con- 
duct towards their children, but is peculiarly 
dangerous to themselves. It is a fault fre- 
quently cherished, from ignorance of its real 
character ; for, not bearing on it the strong 
features of deformity which mark many other 
vices, but, on the contrary, bearing some re- 
semblance to virtue, it is frequently mistaken 
for the Christian graces of patience, meekness, 
and forbearance, than which nothing can be 
more opposite ; these proceeding from the 
Christian principle of self-denial, the other from 
self-indulgence. 

In this connection, may I be permitted to 
remark on the practice at the tables of many 
families when the children are at home for the 
holidays 1 Every delicacy is forced upon them, 
with the tempting remark, " that they cannot 
have this or that dainty at school." They are 
indulged in irregular hours for the same mo- 
tive, " because they cannot have that indul- 
gence at school." Thus the natural seeds of 
idleness, sensuality, and sloth, are at once 
cherished, by converting the periodical visit at 



90 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

home into a season of intemperance, late hours, 
and exemption from learning. So that chil- 
dren are habituated, at an age when lasting as- 
sociations are formed in the mind, to connect 
the idea of study with that of hardship, of hap- 
piness with gluttony, and of pleasure with loi- 
tering, feasting, or sleeping. Would it not be 
better, would it not be kinder, to make them 
combine the delightful idea of home, with the 
gratification of the social affections, the fond- 
ness of maternal love, the kindness, and warmth, 
and confidence of the sweet domestic attach- 
ments, 

And all the charities 

Of father, son, and brother"] 

I will venture to say, that those listless and 
vacant days, wheu the thoughts have no precise 
object ; when the imagination has nothing to 
shape ; when industry has no definite pursuit ; 
when the mind and the body have no exercise, 
and the ingenuity has no acquisition either to 
anticipate or to enjoy, are the longest, the dull- 
est, and the least happy, which children of 
spirit and genius ever pass. Yes ! it is a few 
short but keen and lively intervals of animated 
pleasure, snatched from between the successive 
labors and duties of a well-ordered, busy day, 
looked forward to with hope, enjoyed with taste, 
and recollected without remorse, which, both to 
men and to children, yield the truest portions 
of enjoyment. O snatch your offspring from 
adding to the number of those objects of su- 
preme commiseration, who seek their happiness 
in doing nothing ! The animal may be grati- 
fied by it, but the man is degraded. Life is 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 91 

but a short day ; but it is a working day. Ac- 
tivity may lead to evil ; but inactivity cannot 
be led to good. 

Youncr ladies should also be accustomed to 
set apart a fixed portion of their time, as sacred 
to the poor,* whether in relieving, instructing, 
or working for them ; and the performance of 
this duty must not be left to the event of con- 
tingent circumstances, or the operation of acci- 
dental impressions ; but it must be established 
into a principle, and wrought into a habit. A 
specific portion of the day must be allotted to 
it, on which no common engagement must be 
allowed to intrench. Those periods of time, 
which are not stated, are seldom turned to their 
proper use ; and nothing short of a regular plan 
(which must, however, be sometimes made to 
give way to circumstances) insures the consci- 
entious discharge of any duty. This will help 
to furnish a powerful remedy for that selfish- 
ness, whose strong holds (the truth cannot be 
too often repeated) it is the grand business of 
Christian education perpetually to attack. If 
we were but aware how much better it makes 
ourselves to wish to see others better, and to 
assist in making them so, we should find that 



* Tt would be a noble employment, and well becoming the 
tenderness of their sex, if ladies were to consider the superinten- 
dence of the poor as their immediate office. They are peculiarly 
fitted for it ; for, from their own habits of life, they are more in- 
timately acquainted with domestic wants th;m the other sex; 
and in certain instances of sickness and suffering peculiar to 
themselves, they should be expected to have more sympathy; 
and they have, obviously, more leisure. There is a certain 
religious society, distinguished by simplicity of dress, mariners, 
and language, whose poor are, perhaps, better taken care of than 
any other; and one reason may be, that they are immediately 
under the inspection of the women. 



92 THE EMPLOYMENT OP TIME. 

the good done would be of as much importance 
by the habit of doing good which it would in- 
duce in our own minds, as by its beneficial 
effects on the objects of our kindness.* 

In what relates to pecuniary bounty, it will 
be requiring of young persons a very small sac- 
rifice, if you teach them merely to give that 
money to the poor which properly belongs not 
to the child, but to the parent ; this sort of 
charity commonly subtracts little from their 
own pleasures, especially when what they have 
bestowed is immediately made up to them as a 
reward for their little fit of generosity. They 
will, on this plan, soon learn to give, not only 
for praise, but for profit. The sacrifice of an 
orange to a little girl, or a feather to a great 
one, given at the expense of their own gratifi- 
cation, would be a better lesson of charity on 
its right ground, than a considerable sum of 
money to be presently replaced by the parent. 
And it would be habituating them early to com- 
bine two ideas which ought never to be sepa- 
rated, charity and self-denial. 

As an antidote to selfishness, as well as to 
pride and indolence, they should also very early 
be taught to perform all the little offices in their 
power for themselves ; they should be accus- 



* In addition to the instruction of the individual poor, and the 
superintendence of charity schools, ladies might be highly useful 
in assisting the parochial clergy in the adoption of that excellent 
plan for the instruction of the ignorant, suggested by the Bishop 
of Durham, in his last admirable charge to his clergy. It is vyith 
pleasure the author is enabled to add, that the scheme has actu- 
ally been adopted wiih good effect in that extensive diocese. — 
[The author of this work had enjoyed the friendship of Bishop 
Barrington and his excellent lady, for many years before and 
after his lordship's translation from Salisbury to Durham.— Ed.] 



ON INCONSIDERATION. 93 

tomed not to be insolently exercising their sup- 
posed prerogative of rank and wealth, by call- 
ing for servants where there is no real occa- 
sion ; above all, they should be accustomed to 
consider the domestics' hours of meals and rest 
as almost sacred, and the golden rule should be 
practically and uniformly enforced, even on so 
trifling an occasion as ringing a bell through 
mere wantonness, or self-love, or pride. 

To check the growth of inconsiderateness, 
young ladies should early be taught to dis- 
charge their little debts with punctuality. They 
should.be made sensible of the cruelty of oblig- 
ing trades-people to call often for the money 
due to them ; and of hindering and detaining 
those whose time is the source of their subsis- 
tence, under pretence of some frivolous engage- 
ment, which ought to be made to bend to the 
comfort and advantage of others. They should 
conscientiously allow sufficient time for the ex- 
ecution of their orders; and, with a Christian 
circumspection, be careful not to drive work- 
people, by needless hurry, into losing their 
rest, or breaking the Sabbath. I have known 
a lady give her gown to a mantua-maker* on 
the Saturday night, to whom she would not for 
the world say in so many words, " You must 
work through the whole of Sunday," while she 
was virtually compelling her to do so, by an 
injunction to bring the gown home finished on 
the Monday morning, on pain of her displeas- 

* It is worth remarking, how fashion changes language. 
When this work was written, the term mantua-maker still held its 
place in the dictionary ; but it has now become obsolete, and 
even the intelligible word dress-maker, which succeeded it, is giv- 
ing way to the strange French phrase "modista." — Ed. 

9 



94 ON INCOiNSIDERATlON. 

ure. To these hardships, numbers are con- 
tinually driven by good-natured but inconsid- 
erate employers. As these petty exactions of 
inconsideration furnish also a constant aliment 
to selfishness, let not a desire to counteract 
them be considered as leading to too minute 
details; nothing is too frivolous for animad- 
version, which tends to fix a bad habit in the 
superior, or to wound the feelings of the de- 
pendent. 

Would it not be turning those political doc- 
trines, which are now so warmly agitating, to a 
truly moral account, and give the best practical 
answer to the popular declamations on the in- 
equality of human conditions, were the rich 
carefully to instruct their children to soften that 
inevitable inequality by the mildness and ten- 
derness of their behavior to their inferiors? 
This dispensation of God which excites so 
many sinful murmurs, would, were it thus prac- 
tically improved, tend to establish the glory of 
that Being who is now so often charged with 
injustice ; for God himself is covertly attacked 
in many of the invectives against laws, govern- 
ments, and the supposed arbitrary and unjust 
disproportion of ranks and riches. 

This dispensation, thus properly improved, 
would at once call into exercise the generosity, 
kindness, and forbearance of the superior ; 
and the patience, resignation, and gratitude of 
the inferior : and thus, while we were vindi- 
cating the ways of Providence, we should be 
accomplishing his plan, by bringing into action 
those virtues of both classes, which would have 
had little exercise, had there been no inequality 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 95 

in station and fortune. Those more exalted 
persons who are so zealously contending for 
the privileges of rank and power, should never 
lose sight of the religious duties and consider- 
ate virtues which the possession of rank and 
power imposes on themselves ; duties and vir- 
tues which should ever be inseparable from 
those privileges. As t he inferior classes have 
little real right to complain of laws in this re- 
spect, let the great be watchful to give them as 
little cause to complain of manners. In order 
to this, let them carefully train up their chil- 
dren to supply by individual kindness those 
cases of hardship which laws cannot reach ; 
let them obviate, by an active and well-directed 
compassion, those imperfections of which the 
best constructed human institutions must una- 
voidably partake ; and, by the exercise of pri- 
vate bounty, early inculcated, soften those dis- 
tresses which can never come under the cogni- 
zance of even the best government. Let them 
teach their offspring, that the charity of the 
rich should ever be subsidiary to the public 
provision in those numberless instances to 
which the most equal laws cannot apply. By 
such means, every lesson of politics may be 
converted into a lesson of piety ; and a spirit of 
condescending love might win over some, whom 
a spirit of invective will only inflame. 

Among the instances of negligence into 
which even religiously-disposed parents and 
teachers are apt to fall, one is, that they are 
not sufficiently attentive in finding interesting 
employment for the Sunday. They do not 
make a scruple of sometimes allowing their 



96 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

children to fill up the intervals of public wor- 
ship with their ordinary employments and com- 
mon school exercises. They are not aware 
that they are training their offspring to an early 
and a systematic profanation of the Sabbath by 
this custom ; for to children, their tasks are 
their business ; to them a French or Latin ex- 
ercise is as serious an occupation as the exer- 
cise of a trade or profession is to a man ; and if 
they are allowed to think the one right now, 
they will not be brought hereafter to think that 
the other is wrong ; for the opinions and prac- 
tices fixed at this important season are not 
easily altered ; and an early habit becomes 
rooted into an inveterate prejudice. By this 
oversight, even the friends of religion may be 
contributing eventually to that abolition of the 
Lord's day, so devoutly wished and so indefati- 
gably labored after by its enemies, as the de- 
sired preliminary to the destruction of whatever 
is most dear to Christians. What obstruction 
would it offer to the general progress of youth, 
if all their Sunday exercises (which, with read- 
ing, composing, transcribing, and getting by 
heart, might be extended to an entertaining 
variety) were adapted to the peculiar nature of 
the day 1 

Those whose own spirits and vigor of mind 
are exhausted by the amusements of the world, 
and who, therefore, grow faint and languid 
under the continuance of serious occupation, 
are not aware how different the case is with 
lively young people, whose spring of action has 
not been broken by habitual indulgence. They 
are not aware that a firm and well-disciplined 



THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 97 

intellect wants, comparatively, little amuse- 
ment. The mere change from one book to 
another, is a relief almost amounting to pleas- 
ure. But then the variation must be judic- 
iously made, so that to novelty must be super- 
added comparative amusement ; that is, the 
gradation should be made from the more to the 
less serious book. If care be thus taken that 
greater exertion of the mental powers shall not 
be required, when, through length of applica- 
tion, there is less ability or disposition to exert 
them ; such a well-ordered distinction will pro- 
duce on the mind nearly the same effect as a 
new employment. 

It is not meant to impose on them such rigor- 
ous study as shall convert the day they should 
be taught to love, into a day of burdens and 
hardships, or to abridge them of such innocent 
enjoyments as are compatible with a season 
of holy rest. It is intended merely to sug- 
gest that there should be a marked distinction 
in the nature of their employments and studies; 
for, on the observance or neglect of this, as 
was before observed, their future notions and 
principles will in a good degree be fortned. 
The Gospel, in rescuing the Lord's day from 
the rigorous bondage of the Jewish Sabbath, 
never lessened the obligation to keep it holy, 
nor meant to sanction any secular occupation.* 
Christianity, in lightening its austerities, has 
not defeated the end of its institution ; in puri- 
fying its spirit, it has not abolished its object. 

* The strongest proof of this observation is the conduct of the 
first Christians, who had their instructions immediately from the 
apostles. 

9* 



98 THE EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

Though the author, chiefly writing with a 
view to domestic instruction, has purposely 
avoided entering on the disputed question, 
whether a school or home education be best, — 
a question which, perhaps, must generally be 
decided by the state of the individual home, 
and the state of the individual school, — yet she 
begs leave to suggest one remark, which pecu- 
culiarly belongs to a school education ; namely, 
the general habit of converting the Sunday into 
a visiting day, by way of gaining time ; as if 
the appropriate instructions of the Lord's day 
were the cheapest sacrifice which could be 
made to pleasure. Even in those schools, in 
which religion is considered as an indispensa- 
ble part of instruction, this kind of instruction 
is almost exclusively limited to Sundays : how 
then are girls ever to make any progress in this 
most important article, if they are habituated to 
lose the religious advantages of the school, for 
the sake of having more dainties for dinner 
abroad 1 This remark cannot be supposed to 
apply to the visits which children make to re- 
ligious parents, and, indeed, it only applies to 
those cases where the school is a conscientious 
school, and the visit a trifling visit. 

Among other subjects which engross a good 
share of worldly conversation, one of the most 
attracting is beauty. Many ladies have often a 
random way of talking rapturously on the gen- 
eral importance and the fascinating power of 
beauty, who are yet prudent enough to be very 
unwilling to let their own daughters find out 
they are handsome. Perhaps the contrary course 
might be safer. If the little listener were not 



DANGER OF WORLDLY MAXIMS. 99 

constantly hearing that beauty is the best gift, 
she would not be so vain from fancying herself 
to be the best gifted. Be less solicitous, there- 
fore, to conceal from her a secret, which, with 
all your watchfulness, she will be sure to find 
out without vour telling ; but rather seek to 
lower the general value of beauty in her estima- 
tion. Use your daughter in all things to a 
different standard from that of the world. It is 
not by vulgar people and servants only that she 
will be told of her being pretty. She will be 
hearing it, not only from gay ladies, but from 
grave men : she will be hearing it from the 
1 whole world around her. The antidote to the 
present danger is not now to be searched for ; 
it must be already operating ; it must have been 
provided for in the foundation laid in the gen- 
eral principle she has been imbibing before this 
particular temptation of beauty came in ques- 
tion. And this general principle is an habitual 
S indifference to flattery. She must have learnt 
not to be intoxicated by the praise of the world. 
She must have learnt to estimate things by their 
intrinsic worth, rather than by the world's esti- 
mation. Speak to her with particular kindness 
and commendation of plain but amiable girls ; 
mention with compassion such as are handsome, 
but ill-educated ; speak casually of some who 
were once thought pretty, but have ceased to be 
good : make use of the arguments arising from 
the shortness and uncertainty of beauty, as 
strong additional reasons for making that which 
is little valuable in itself, still less valuable. As 
it is a new idea which is always dangerous, you 
may thus break the force of this danger by al- 



100 DANGER OF WORLDLY MAXIMS. 

lowing her an early introduction to this inevita- 
ble knowledge, which would become more in- 
teresting, and of course more perilous, by every 
additional year ; and if you can guard against 
that fatal and almost universal error of letting 
her see that she is more loved on account of her 
beauty, her familiarity with the idea may be 
less dangerous than its novelty afterwards would 
prove. 

But the great and constant peril to which 
young persons in the higher walks of life are ^ 
exposed, is the prevailing turn and spirit of d 
general conversation. Even the children of fj 
better families, who are well instructed when at y 
their studies, are yet at other times continually J 
beholding the world set up in the highest and -s\ 
most advantageous point of view. Seeing the L 
world ! knowing the world ! standing well with ^0 
the world ! making a figure in the world ! is "^ 
spoken of as including the whole sum and sub- 
stance of human advantages. They hear their ^ 
education almost exclusively alluded to with N£ 
reference to the figure it will enable them to 
make in the world. In almost all companies, ^^ 
they hear all that the world admires spoken of 
with admiration ; rank flattered, fame coveted, 
power sought, beauty idolized, money consider- 
ed as the one thing needful, and as the aston- 
ishing substitute for the want of all other things ; 
profit held up as the reward of virtue, and world- 
ly estimation as the just and highest prize of 
laudable ambition ; and after the very spirit of 
the world has been thus habitually infused into 
them all the week, one cannot expect much ef- 
fect from their being coldly and customarily 



DANGER OF WORLDLY MAXIMS. 101 

told, now and then on Sundays, that they must 
not " love the world, nor the things of the 
world." To tell them, once in seven days, that 
it is a sin to gratify an appetite which you have 
been whetting and stimulating the preceding 
six, is to require from them a power of self- 
control, which our knowledge of the impetuosi- 
ty of the passions, especially in early age, should 
have taught us is impossible. 

This is not the place to animadvert on the 
usual misapplication of the phrase, " knowing 
the world ;" which term is commonly applied, 
in the way of panegyric, to keen, designing, 
selfish, ambitious men, who study mankind in 
order to turn them to their own account. But 
in the true sense of the expression, the sense 
which Christian parents would wish to impress 
on their children, to know the world is to know 
its emptiness, its vanity, its futility, and its 
wickedness. To know it, is to despise it, to be 
on our guard against it, to labor to live above 
it ; and in this view an obscure Christian in a 
village may be said to know the world better 
than a hoary courtier or wily politician. For 
how can they be said to know it, who go on to 
love it, to value it, to be led captive by its al- 
lurements, to give their soul in exchange for its 
lying promises 1 

But while so false an estimate is often made 
in fashionable society, of the real value of 
things ; that is, while Christianity does not fur- 
nish the standard, and human opinion does; 
while the multiplying our desires is considered 
as a symptom of elegance, though to subdue 
those desires is the grand criterion of religion ; 



102 ON THE EARLY FORMING OF HABITS. 

while moderation is beheld as indicating a poor- 
ness of spirit, though to that very poverty of 
spirit the highest promise of the Gospel is as- 
signed ; while worldly wisdom is sedulously en- 
joined by worldly friends, in contradiction to 
that assertion, " that the wisdom of the world 
is foolishness with God ;" while the praise of 
man is to be anxiously sought, in opposition to 
that assurance, that " the fear of man worketh 
a snare ;" while they are taught all the week, 
that " the friendship of the world" is the wisest 
pursuit ; and on Sundays, that " it is enmity 
with God ;" while these things are so (and that 
they are so, in a good degree, who will under- 
take to deny 1) may we not venture to affirm 
that a Christian education, though it be not an 
impossible, is yet a very difficult work ? 



CHAPTER VI. 

ON THE EARLY FORMING OF HABITS. 

On the necessity of forming the judgment to direct those habits. 

It can never be too often repeated, that one 
of the great objects of education is the forming 
of habits. I may be suspected of having recur- 
red too often, though hitherto incidentally, to 
this topic. It is, however, a topic of such im- 



ON THE EARLY FORMING OF HABfTS. 103 

portance, that it will be useful to consider it 
somewhat more in detail ; as the early forming 
of right habits on sound principles seems to be 
one of the grand secrets of virtue and happiness. 

The forming of any one good habit seems to 
be effected rather by avoiding the opposite bad 
habit, and resisting every temptation to the op- 
posite vice, than by the mere occasional prac- 
tice of the virtue required. Humility, for in- 
stance, is less an act than a disposition of mind. 
It is not so much a single performance of some 
detached, humble deed, as an incessant watch- 
fulness against every propensity to pride. 80- 
bricty is not a prominent, ostensible thing ; it 
evidently consists in a series of negations, and 
not of actions. It is a conscientious habit of 
resisting every incentive to intemperance. Meek- 
ness is best attained and exemplified by guard- 
ing against every tendency to anger, impatience, 
and resentment. A habit of attention and ap- 
plication is formed by early and constant vigi- 
lance against a trifling spirit and a wandering 
mind ; a habit of industry, by watching against 
the blandishments of pleasure, the waste of 
small portions of time, and the encroachment of 
small indulgences. 

Now, to stimulate us to an earnest desire of 
working any or all of these habits into the minds 
of children, it will be of importance to consider 
what a variety of uses each of them involves. 

To take, for example, the case of moderation 
and temperance. It would seem to a superficial 
observer, of no very great importance to acquire 
a habit of self-denial in respect either to the 
elegancies of decoration, or to the delicacies of 



104 ON THE EARLY FORMING OF HABITS. 

the table, or to the common routine of pleasure ; 
that there can be no occasion for an indiffer- 
ence to luxuries harmless in themselves, and no 
need of daily moderation in those persons who 
are possessed of affluence, and to whom, there- 
fore, as the expense is no object, so the forbear- 
ance is thought of no importance. Those acts 
of self-denial, I admit, when contemplated by 
themselves, appear to be of no great value ; yet 
they assume high importance, if you consider 
what it is to have, as it were, dried up the 
spring of only one importunate passion ; if you 
reflect, after any one such conquest is obtained, 
how easily, comparatively speaking, it is follow- 
ed up by others. 

How much future virtue and self-government, 
in more important things, may a mother, there- 
fore, be securing to that child, who should always 
remain in as high a situation as she is in when 
the first foundations of this quality are laying ; 
but should any reverse of fortune take place in. 
the daughter, how much integrity and inde- 
pendence of mind also may be prepared for her, 
by the early excision of superfluous desires \ 
She, who has been trained to subdue these pro- 
pensities, will, in all probability, be preserved 
from running into worthless company, merely 
for the sake of the splendor which may be at- 
tached to it. She will be rescued from the 
temptation to do wrong things, for the sake of 
enjoyments from which she cannot abstain. 
She is delivered from the danger of flattering 
those whom she despises ; because her moder- 
ate mind and well-ordered desires do not solicit 
indulgences, which could only be procured by 



ON THE EARLY FORMING OF HABITS. 105 

mean compliances. For she will have been 
habituated to consider the character as the lead- 
ing circumstance of attachment, and the splen- 
dor as an accident, which may or may not be- 
long to it ; but which, when it does, as it is not 
a ground of merit in the possessor, so it is not 
to be the ground of her attachment. The habit 
of self-control, in small as well as in great 
things, involves, in the aggregate, less loss of 
pleasure than will be experienced by disappoint- 
ments in the mind ever yielding itself to the 
love of present indulgences, whenever those in- 
dulgences should be abridged or withdrawn. 

She who has been accustomed to have an 
early habit of restraint exercised over all her 
appetites and temper ; she who has been used 
to set bounds to her desires as a general princi- 
ple, will have learned to withstand a passion for 
dress and personal ornaments ; and the woman 
who has conquered this propensity, has sur- 
mounted one of the most domineering tempta- 
tions which assail the sex. While this seem- 
ingly little circumstance, if neglected, and the 
opposite habit formed, may be the first step to 
every successive error, and every consequent 
distress. Those women who are ruined by se- 
duction in the lower classes, and those who are 
made miserable by ambitious marriages in the 
higher, will be more frequently found to owe 
their misery to an ungoverned passion for dress 
and show, than to motives more apparently bad. 
An habitual moderation in this article, growing 
out of a pure, self-denying principle, and not 
arising from the affectation of a singularity, 
which may have more pride in it than others 
10 



106 ON THE EARLY FORMING OP HABITS. 

feel in the indulgence of any of the things which 
this singularity renounces, includes many valua- 
ble advantages. Modesty, simplicity, humility, 
economy, prudence, liberality, charity, are al- 
most inseparably, and not very remotely con- 
nected with an habitual victory over personal 
vanity, and a turn to personal expense. The 
inferior and less striking virtues are the smaller 
pearls, which serve to string and connect the 
great ones. 

An early and unremitting zeal in forming 
the mind to a habit of attention, not only pro- 
duces the outward expression of good breeding, 
as one of its incidental advantages, but involves, 
or rather creates, better qualities than itself; 
while vacancy and inattention not only produce 
vulgar manners, but are usually the indication, 
if not of an ordinary, yet of a neglected under- 
standing. To the habitually inattentive, books 
offer little benefit ; company affords little im- 
provement ; while a self-imposed attention sharp- 
ens observation, and creates a spirit of inspec- 
tion and inquiry, which often lifts a common 
understanding to a degree of eminence in knowl- 
edge, sagacity, and usefulness, which indolent 
or negligent genius does not always reach. A 
habit of attention exercises intellect, quickens 
discernment, multiplies ideas, enlarges the pow- 
er of combining images and comparing charac- 
ters, and gives a faculty of picking up improve- 
ment from circumstances the least promising ; 
and gaining instruction from those slight, but 
frequently recurring occasions, which the ab- 
sent and the negligent turn to no account. 
Scarcely any thing or person is so unproduc- 



ON THE EARLY FORMING OF HABITS. 107 

tive, as not to yield some fruit to the attentive 
and sedulous collector of ideas. But this is far 
from being the highest praise of such a person : 
she, who early imposes on herself a habit of 
strict attention to whatever she is engaged in, 
begins to wage early war with wandering 
thoughts, useless reveries, and that disqualify- 
ing train of busy, but unprofitable imaginations, 
by which the idle are occupied, and the absent 
are absorbed. She who keeps her intellectual 
powers in action, studies with advantage her- 
self, her books, and the world. Whereas, they, 
in whose undisciplined minds vagrant thoughts 
have been suffered to range without restriction 
on ordinary occasions, will find they cannot 
easily call them home, when wanted to assist in 
higher duties. Thoughts, which are indulged in 
habitual wandering, will not be readily restrain- 
ed in the solemnities of public worship or of 
private devotion. 

But, in speaking of the necessary habits, it 
must be noticed, that the habit of unremitting 
industry, which is indeed, closely connected 
with those of which we have just made men- 
tion, cannot be too early or too sedulously form- 
ed. Let not the sprightly and the brilliant re- 
ject industry as a plebian quality ; as a quality 
to be exercised only by those who have their 
bread to earn, or their fortune to make. But 
let them respect it, and adopt it as a habit to 
which many elevated characters have, in a good 
measure, owed their distinction. The masters 
in science, the leaders in literature, legislators 
and statesmen, even apostles and reformers, 
would not, at least in so eminent a degree, have 



108 ON THE EARLY FORMING OF HABITS. 

enlightened, converted, and astonished the 
world, had they not been eminent possessors of 
this sober and unostentatious quality. It is the 
quality to which the immortal Newton modestly 
ascribed his own vast attainments ; who, when 
he was asked by what means he had been ena- 
bled to make that successful progress which 
struck mankind with wonder, replied, that it 
was not so much owing to any superior strength 
of genius, as to a habit of patient thinking, la- 
borious attention, and close application. We 
must, it is true, make some deductions for the 
humility of the speaker ; yet it is not overrating 
its value, to assert that industry is the sturdy 
and hard-working pioneer, who, by persevering 
labor removes obstructions, overcomes difficul- 
ties, clears intricacies, and thus facilitates the 
march and aids the victories of genius. 

An exact habit of economy is of the same 
family with the two foregoing qualities ; and, 
like them, is the prolific parent of a numerous 
offspring of virtues. For want of the early in- 
grafting of this practice on its only legitimate 
stock — a sound principle of integrity — may we 
not, in too many instances in subsequent life, 
almost apply to the fatal effects of domestic pro- 
fuseness, what Tacitus observes of a lavish pro- 
fligacy in the expenditure of public money — 
that an exchequer which is exhausted by prodi- 
gality, will probably be replenished by crimes. 

Those who are early trained to scrupulous 
punctuality in the division of time, and an ex- 
actness to the hours of their childish business, 
will have learned how much the economy of 
time is promoted by habits of punctuality, when 



ON THE EARLY FORMING OF HABITS. 109 

they shall enter on the^more important business 
of life. By getting one employment cleared 
away, exactly as the succeeding employment 
shall have a claim to be despatched, they will 
learn two things — that one business must not 
trench on the time which belongs to another 
business ; and to set a value on those odd quar- 
ters of an hour, and even minutes, which are so 
often lost between successive duties, for want 
of calculation, punctuality, and arrangement. 

A habit of punctuality is, perhaps, one of the 
earliest which the youthful mind may be made 
capable of receiving ; and it is so connected 
with truth, with morals, and with the general 
good government of the mind, as to render it 
important that it should be brought into exer- 
cise on the smallest occasions. But I refrain 
from enlarging on this point, as it will be dis- 
cussed in another part of this work.* 

It requires, perhaps, still more sedulity to lay 
early the first foundation of those interior habits, 
which are grounded on watchfulness against 
such faults as do not often betray themselves by 
breaking out into open excesses ; and which 
there would, therefore, be less discredit in in- 
dulging. It should more particularly make a 
part of the first elements of education, to try to 
infuse into the mind that particular principle 
which stands in opposition to those evil tempers, 
to which the individual pupil is more immedi- 
ately addicted. As it cannot be followed up 
too closely, so it can hardly be set about too 
early. May we not borrow an important illus- 

* See Chapter X, on Definitions. 

10* 



110 ON THE EARLY FORMING OF HABITS. 

tration of this truth from the fabulous hero of 
the Grecian story ? He, who was one day to 
perform exploits which should fill the earth with 
his renown, began by conquering in his in- 
fancy ; and it was a preliminary to his deliver- 
ing the world from monsters in his riper years, 
that he should set out by strangling the serpents 
in his cradle. 

It must, however, be observed that diligent 
care is to be exercised, that, together with the 
gradual formation of these and other useful 
habits, an adequate attention be employed to 
the forming of the judgment ; to the framing 
such a sound constitution of mind, as shall sup- 
ply the power of directing all the faculties of 
the understanding, and all the qualities of the 
heart, to keep their proper places and due 
bounds, to observe their just proportions and 
maintain their right station, relation, order and 
dependence. 

For instance, while the young person's mind 
is trained on those habits of attention and in- 
dustry which we have been recommending, 
great care must be used that her judgment be 
so enlightened as to enable her to form sound 
notions with regard to what is really worthy her 
attentive pursuit, without which discriminating 
power, application would only be activity mis- 
employed ; and ardor and industry would but 
serve to lead her more widely from the right 
road of truth. Without a correct judgment she 
would be wasting her activity on what was 
frivolous, or exhausting it on what was mis- 
chievous. Without that ardor and activity we 
have been recommending, she might only be 



ON THE EARLY FORMING OF HABITS. 1 1 I 

" weaving spiders' webs ;" with it, if destitute 
of judgment, she would be " hatching cocka- 
trices' eggs." 

Again, if the judgment be not well informed 
as to the nature and true ends of temperance, 
the ill-instructed mind might be led into a su- 
perstitious reliance on the merits of self-denial ; 
and resting in the letter of a few outward ob- 
servances, without any consideration of the 
spirit of this Christian virtue, might be led to 
infer, that the kingdom of heaven was the ab- 
stinence from " meat and drink," and not 
" peace, and righteousness, and joy in the Holy 
Ghost." 

The same well-ordered judgment will also be 
required in superintending and regulating the 
habit of economy ; for extravagance being rath- 
er a relative than a positive term, the true art 
of regulating expense is not to proportion it to 
the fashion, or to the opinion or practice of oth- 
ers, but to our own station and our own cir- 
cumstances. Aristippus, being accused of ex- 
travagance, by one who was not rich, because 
he had given six crowns for a small fish, said 
to him, " Why, what would you have given ?" 
" Twelve pence," answered the other. " Then," 
replied Aristippus, "our economy is equal ; for 
six crowns are no more to me, than twelve 
pence are to you." 

It is the more important to enlighten the 
judgment on this point, because so predominant 
is the control of custom and fashion, that men 
of unfixed principle are driven to borrow other 
people's judgment of them before they can ven- 
ture to determine whether they themselves are 



112 ON THE EARLV FORMING OF HABITS. 

rich or happy. These vain slaves to human 
opinion do not so often say, How ought 1 to 
act ? or, What ought I to spend 1 as, What 
does the world think I ought to do? W T hat do 
others think I ought to spend? 

There is, also, a perpetual call for the inter- 
ference of the judgment in settling the true no- 
tion of what meekness is, before we can adopt 
the practice without falling into error. We 
must apprize those on whose minds we are in- 
culcating this amiable virtue, of the broad line 
of distinction between Christian meekness and 
that well-bred tone and gentle manner which 
passes current for it in the world. We must 
teach them, also, to distinguish between an 
humble opinion of our own ability to judge, and 
a servile dereliction of truth and principle, in 
order to purchase the poor praise of indiscrimi- 
nate compliance and yielding softness. We 
must lead them to distinguish accurately be- 
tween honesty and obstinacy ; between perse- 
verance and perverseness ; between firmness and 
prejudice. We must convince them that it is 
not meekness, but baseness, when, through a 
dishonest dread of offending the prosperous, or 
displeasing the powerful, we forbear to recom- 
mend, or refuse to support, those whom it is our 
duty to recommend or to support ; that it is 
selfishness, and not meekness, when, through 
fear of forfeiting any portion of our reputation, 
or risking our own favor with others, we re- 
fuse to bear our testimony to suspected worth 
or discredited virtue.* 

* To this criminal timidity, Madame de Maintenon, a woman 
of parts and piety, sacrificed the ingenious and amiable Racine; 



THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 113 



CHAPTER VII. 

Filial obedience not the character of the age. — A comparison with 
the preceding age in this respect. — Those who cultivate the 
mind advised to study the nature of the soil. — Unpromising 
children often made strong characters. — Teachers too apt to 
devote their pains almost exclusively to children of parts. 

Among the real improvements of modern 
times, — and they are not a few, — it is to be 
feared that the growth of filial obedience cannot 
be included. Who can forbear observing and 
regretting, in a variety of instances, that not 
only sons, but daughters, have adopted some- 
thing of that spirit of independence, and disdain 
of control, which characterize the times 1 And 
is jt not too generally obvious, that domestic 
manners are not slightly tinctured with the pre- 
vailing hue of public principles 1 The rights 
of man have been discussed, till we are some- 
what wearied with the discussion. To these 
have been opposed, as the next stage in the pro- 
gress of illumination, and with more presump- 
tion than prudence, the rights of woman. It fol- 
lows, according to the natural progression of 
human things, that the next influx of that ir- 
radiation which our enlighteners are pouring in 

whom, while "she had taste enough to admire, she had not the 
generosity to defend, when the royal favor was withdrawn from 
him. A still darker cloud hangs over her fame, on account of 
the selfish neutrality she maintained in not interposing her good 
offices between the resentments of the king and ihe sufferings of 
the Hugonots. It is a heavy aggravation of her fault, that she 
herself had been educated in the faith of these persecuted people. 



114 THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 

upon us, will illuminate the world with grave 
descants on the rights of youth — the rights of 
children — the rights of babies ! 

This revolutionary spirit in families suggests 
the remark, that, among the faults with which 
it has been too much the fashion of recent times 
to load the memory of the incomparable Milton, 
one of the charges brought against his private 
character (for with his political character we 
have here nothing to do) has been, that he was 
so severe a father as to have compelled his 
daughters, after he was blind, to read aloud to 
him, for his sole pleasure, Greek and Latin au- 
thors, of which they did not understand a word. 
But this is, in fact, nothing more than an in- 
stance of the strict domestic regulations of the 
age in which Milton lived, and should not be 
brought forward as a proof of the severity of his 
individual temper. Nor, indeed, in any case 
should it ever be considered as a hardship for 
an affectionate child to amuse an afflicted pa- 
rent, even though it should be attended with a 
heavier sacrifice of her own pleasure than that 
produced in the present instance.* 

* In spite of this too prevailing spirit, and at a time when, by 
an inverted state of society, sacrifices of ease and pleasure are 
rather exacted by children from parents, than required of parents 
from children, numberless instances might be adduced of filial 
affection truly honorable to the present period. And the author 
records with pleasure, that she has seen amiable young ladies of 
high rank conducting the steps of a blind but illustrious parent 
with true filial fondness; and has often contemplated, in another 
family, the interesting attentions of daughters who were both 
hands and eyes to an infirm and nearly blind father. It is but 
justice to repeat, that these examples are not taken from that 
middle rank of life which Milton filled, but from the daughters of 
the highest officers in the state. 

[The instances of filial piety alluded to in this note were those 
of the daughters of Lord North, Earl of Guildford, at Bath, and 
of the Princesses Augusta, Elizabeth, and Mary, at Windsor.— 
Ed.] 



THE BENEFITS UF RESTRAINT. 115 

Is the author then inculcating the harsh doc- 
trine of paternal austerity ? By no means. It 
drives the gentle spirit to artifice, and the rug- 
ged to despair. It generates deceit and cun- 
ning, the most hopeless and hateful in the whole 
catalogue of female failings. Ungoverned an- 
ger in the teacher, and inability to discriminate 
between venial errors and premeditated offence, 
though they may lead a timid creature to hide 
wrong tempers, or to conceal bad actions, will 
not help her to subdue the one or to correct the 
other. The dread of severity will drive terri- 
fied children to seek, not for reformation, but 
for impunity. A readiness to forgive them pro- 
motes frankness ; and we should, above all 
things, encourage them to be frank, in order to 
come at their faults. They have not more for 
being open, they only discover more ; and to 
know the worst of the character we have to 
regulate, will enable us to make it better. 

Discipline, however, is not cruelty, and re- 
straint is not severity. A discriminating teacher 
will appreciate the individual character of each 
pupil, in order to appropriate her management. 
We must strengthen the feeble, while we repel 
the bold. We cannot educate by a receipt ; 
for, after studying the best rules, and after di- 
gesting them into the best system, much must 
depend on contingent circumstances ; for that 
which is good may yet be inapplicable. The 
cultivator of the human mind must, like the 
gardener, study diversities of soil, or he may 
plant diligently and water faithfully with little 
fruit. The skilful laborer knows that even 
where the surface is not particularly promising, 



116 THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 

there is often a rough, strong ground which will 
amply repay the trouble of breaking it up ; yet 
we are often most taken with a soft surface, 
though it conceal a shallow depth, because it 
promises present reward and little trouble. But 
strong and pertinacious tempers, of which, per- 
haps, obstinacy is the leading vice, under skil- 
ful management, often turn out steady and ster- 
ling characters ; while from softer clay a firm 
and vigorous virtue is but seldom produced, 
Pertinacity is often principle, which wants noth- 
ing but to be led to its true object ; while the 
uniformly-yielding and universally-accommodat- 
ing spirit is not seldom the result of a feeble 
tone of morals, of a temper eager for praise, and 
acting for reward. 

But these revolutions in character cannot be 
effected by mere education. Plutarch has ob- 
served, that the medical science would never 
be brought to perfection till poisons should be 
converted into physic. What our late improv- 
ers in natural science have done in the medical 
world, by converting the most deadly ingredi- 
ents into instruments of life and health, Chris- 
tianity, with a sort of divine alchemy, has effect- 
ed in the moral world, by that transmutation 
which makes those passions which have been 
working for sin become active in the cause of 
religion. The violent temper of Saul of Tar- 
sus, which was " exceedingly mad" against the 
saints of God, did God see fit to convert into 
that burning zeal which enabled Paul the apos- 
tle to labor so unremittingly for the conversion 
of the Gentile world. Christianity, indeed, 
does not so much give us new affections or fac- 



THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 117 

ulties, as give a new direction to those we al- 
ready have. She changes that sorrow of the 
world which worketh death, into " godly sorrow 
which worketh repentance." She changes our 
anger against the persons we dislike, into hatred 
of their sins. "The fear of man which work- 
eth a snare," she transmutes into "that fear of 
God which worketh salvation." That religion 
does not extinguish the passions, but only alters 
their object, the animated expressions of the 
fervid apostle confirm — '' Yea, what fearful" 
ness ; yea, what clearing of yourselves ; yea, 
what indignation ; yea, what fear ; yea, what 
vehement desire ; yea, what zeal ; yea, what re" 
venge."* 

Thus, by some of the most troublesome pas- 
sions of our nature being converted, by the 
blessing of God on a religious education, to the 
side of virtue, a double purpose is effected ; be- 
cause it is the character of the passions never 
to observe a neutrality. If they are no longer 
rebels, they become auxiliaries ; and ^he acces- 
sion of strength is doubled, because a foe sub- 
dued is an ally obtained. For it is the effect of 
religion on the passions, that when she seizes 
the enemy's garrison, she does not content her- 
self with defeating its future mischiefs ; she 
does not destroy the works ; she does not burn 
the arsenal and spike the cannon ; but the ar- 
tillery she seizes she turns to her own use ; she 
attacks in her turn, and plants its whole force 
against the enemy from whom she has taken it. 
But while I would deprecate harshness, I 

* 2 Cor. vil. 11. 

11 



118 THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 

would enforce discipline ; and that not merely 
on the ground of religion, but of happiness also. 
— One reason, not seldom brought forward by 
tender but mistaken mothers as an apology for 
their unbounded indulgence, especially to weak- 
ly children, is, that they probably will not live 
to enjoy the world when grown up ; and that, 
therefore, they would not abridge the little 
pleasure they may enjoy at present, lest they 
should be taken out of the world without hav- 
ing tasted any of its delights. But a slight de- 
gree of observation would prove that this is an 
error in judgment as well as in principle. For, 
omitting any considerations respecting their fu- 
ture welfare, and entering only into their imme- 
diate interests, it is an indisputable fact, that 
children who know no control, whose faults en- 
counter no contradiction, and whose humors 
experience constant indulgence, grow more ir- 
ritable and capricious, invent wants, create de- 
sires, lose all relish for the pleasures which they 
know they may reckon upon ; and become, per- 
haps, more miserable than even those unfortu- 
tunate children who labor under the more obvi- 
ous and more commiserated misfortune of suf- 
fering under the tyranny of unkind parents. 

An early habitual restraint is peculiarly im- 
portant to the future character and happiness of 
women. A judicious, unrelaxing, but steady 
and gentle curb on their tempers and passions 
can alone insure their peace and establish their 
principles. It is a habit which cannot be adopt- 
ed too soon, nor persisted in too pertinaciously. 
They should, when very young, be inured to 
contradiction. Instead of hearing their bon 



THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. H9 

mots treasured up, and repeated, till the guests 
are tired, and till the children begin to think it 
dull, when they themselves are not the little hero- 
ines of the theme, they should be accustomed 
to receive but moderate praise for their vivacity 
or their wit, though they should receive just 
commendation for such qualities as have more 
worth than splendor. 

Patience, diligence, quiet, and unfatigued 
perseverance, industry, regularity, and economy 
of time, as these are the dispositions I would 
labor to excite, so these are the qualities I would 
warmly commend. So far from admiring genius, 
or extolling its prompt effusions, I would rather 
intimate that excellence, to a certain degree, is 
in the power of every competitor ; that it is the 
vanity of overvaluing herself for supposed origi- 
nal powers, and slackening exertion in conse- 
quence of that vanity, which often leave the 
lively ignorant and the witty superficial. A girl 
who overhears her mother tell the company that 
she is a genius, and is so quick, that she never 
thinks of applying to her task till a few minutes 
before she is to be called to repeat it, will ac- 
quire such a confidence in her own abilities, 
that she will be advancing in conceit as she is 
falling short in knowledge. Whereas, if she 
were made to suspect that her want of applica- 
tion rather indicated a deficiency than a superi- 
ority in her understanding, she would become 
industrious in proportion as she became modest ; 
and, by thus adding the diligence of the hum- 
ble to the talents of the ingenious, she might 
really attain a degree of excellence, which mere 
quickness of parts (too lazy, because too proud 
to apply) seldom attains. 



120 THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 

Girls should be led to distrust their own judg- 
ment ; they should learn not to murmur at ex- 
postulation ; they should be accustomed to expect 
and to endure opposition. It is a lesson with 
which the world will not fail to furnish them ; 
and they will not practise it the worse for hav- 
ing learnt it the sooner. It is of the last im- 
portance to their happiness, even in this life, 
that they should early acquire a submissive tem- 
per and a forbearing spirit. They must even 
endure to be thought wrong sometimes, when 
they cannot but feel they are right. And while 
they should be anxiously aspiring to do well, 
they must not expect always to obtain the praise 
of having done so. But while a gentle de- 
meanor is inculcated, let them not be instructed 
to practise gentleness merely on the low ground 
of its being decorous, and feminine, and pleas- 
ing, and calculated to attract human favor ; but 
let them be carefully taught to cultivate it on 
the high principle of obedience to Christ ; on 
the practical ground of laboring after conformi- 
ty to Him who, when he proposed himself as a 
perfect pattern of imitation, did not say, Learn 
of me, for I am great, or wise, or mighty, but 
-' Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly ;" and 
who graciously promised that the reward should 
accompany the practice, by encouragingly add- 
ing, " and ye shall find rest to your souls." Do 
not teach thern humility on the ordinary ground 
that vanity is unamiable, and that no one will 
love them if they are proud ; for that will only 
go to correct the exterior, and make them soft 
and smiling hypocrites. But inform them, that 
" God resisteth the proud," while " them that 
are meek he shall guide in judgment ; and such 



THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 121 

as are , gentle, them shall he teach his way." 
In these, as in all other cases, an habitual at- 
tention to the motives should be carefully substi- 
tuted in their young hearts, in the place of too 
much anxiety about the event of actions. Prin 
ciples, aims, and intentions should be invariably 
insisted on, as the only true ground of right 
practice ; and they should be carefully guarded 
against too much solicitude for that human 
praise which attaches to appearances as much 
as to realities ; to success more than to desert, 
Let me repeat, without incurring the censure 
of tautology, that it will be of vast importance 
not to let slip the earliest occasions of working 
gentle manners into a habit on their only true 
foundation, Christian meekness. For this pur- 
pose I would again urge your calling in the ex- 
ample of our Redeemer in aid of his precepts. 
Endeavor to make your pupil feel that all the 
wonders exhibited in his life do not so over- 
whelm the awakened heart with rapture, love, 
and astonishment, as the perpetual instances of 
his humility and meekness, with which the gos- 
pel abounds. Stupendous miracles, exercises 
of infinite power, prompted by infinite mercy, 
are actions which we should naturally enough 
conceive as growing out of omnipotence and 
divine perfection ; but silence under cruel mock- 
ings, patience under reproach, gentleness of 
demeanor under unparalleled injuries, — these 
are perfections of which unassisted nature not 
only has no conception in a Divine Being, but 
at which it would revolt, had not the reality 
been exemplified by our perfect pattern. Heal- 
ing the sick, feeding the multitude, restoring 
11* 



122 THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 

the blind, raising the dead, are deeds of which 
we could form some adequate idea, as neces- 
sarily flowing from almighty goodness : but to 
wash his disciples' feet ; to preach the gospel to 
the poor; to renounce not only ease, for that 
heroes have done on human motives ; but to 
renounce praise, to forgive his persecutors, to 
love his enemies, to pray for his murderers with 
his last breath ; — these are things which, while 
they compel us to cry out with the centurion, 
" Truly this was the Son of God," should re» 
mind us, also, that they are not only adorable 
but imitahle parts of his character. These are 
not speculative and barren doctrines which he 
came to preach to Christians, but living duties 
which he meant to entail on them ; symbols of 
their profession ; tests of their discipleship. 
These are perfections which we are not barely 
to contemplate with holy awe and distant admi- 
ration, as if they were restricted to the divine 
nature of our Redeemer, but we must consider 
them as suited to the human nature also, which 
he condescended to participate. In contemplat- 
ing, we must imitate ; in admiring, we must 
practise; and, in our measure and degree, go 
and do likewise. Elevate your thoughts for 
one moment to this standard (and you should 
never allow yourself to be contented with a low- 
er,) and then go, if you can, and teach your 
children to be mild, and soft, and gentle, on 
worldly grounds, on human motives, as an ex- 
ternal attraction, as a decoration to their sex, 
as an appendage to their rank, as an expression 
of their good breeding. 

There is a custom among teachers, which is 



THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 123 

not the more right for being common ; they are 
apt to bestow an undue proportion of pains on 
children of the best capacity, as if only geniuses 
were worthy of attention. They should reflect, 
that in moderate talents, carefully cultivated, 
we are, perhaps, to look for the chief happiness 
and virtue of society. If superlative genius had 
been generally necessary, its existence would 
not have been so rare ; for Omnipotence could 
easily have made those talents common which 
we now consider as extraordinary, had they 
been necessary to the perfection of his plan. 
Besides, while we are conscientiously instruct- 
ing children of moderate capacity, it is a com- 
fort to reflect, that if no labor will raise them to 
a higher degree in the scale of intellectual dis- 
tinction, yet they may be led on to perfection in 
that road in which " a way-faring man, though 
simple, shall not err." And when a mother 
feels disposed to repine that her family is not 
likely to exhibit a group of future wits and 
growing beauties, let her console herself by 
looking abroad into the world, where she will 
quickly perceive that the monopoly of happiness 
is not engrossed by beauty, nor that of virtue 
by genius. 

Perhaps mediocrity of parts was decreed to 
be the ordinary lot, by way of furnishing a 
stimulus to industry, and strengthening the mo- 
tives to virtuous application. For is it not ob- 
vious that moderate abilities, carefully carried 
to that measure of perfection of which they are 
capable, often enables their possessors to out- 
strip, in the race of knowledge and of useful- 
ness,, their more brilliant but less persevering 



124 THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 

competitors? It is with mental endowments as 
with other rich gifts of Providence ; the inhabi- 
tant of the luxuriant southern clime, where na- 
ture has done every thing in the way of vegeta- 
tion, indolently lays hold on this very plea of 
fertility, which should animate his exertions, as 
a reason for doing nothing himself; so that the 
soil which teems with such encouraging abund- 
ance, leaves the favored possessor idle, and 
comparatively poor ; while the native of the less 
genial region, supplying by his labors the defi- 
ciencies of his lot, overtakes his more favored 
competitor ; by substituting industry for opu- 
lence, he improves the riches of his native land 
beyond that which is blessed with warmer suns, 
and thus vindicates Providence from the charge 
of partial distribution. 

A girl who has docility will seldom be found 
to want understanding sufficient for all the pur- 
poses of a useful, a happy, and a pious life. 
And it is as wrong for parents to set out with 
too sanguine a dependence on the figure their 
children are to make in life, as it is unreasona- 
ble to be discouraged at every disappointment. 
Want of success is so far from furnishing a mo- 
tive for relaxing their energy, that it is a reason 
for redoubling it. Let them suspect their own 
plans, and reform them ; let them distrust their 
own principles, and correct them. The gen- 
erality of parents do too little ; some do much, 
and miss their reward, because they look not to 
any strength beyond their own ; after much is 
done, much will remain undone ; for the entire 
regulation of the heart and affections is not the 
work of education alone 5 but is effected by the 



THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 125 

operation of divine grace. Will it be account- 
ed enthusiasm to suggest, " that the fervent, ef- 
fectual prayer of a righteous parent availeth 
much ?" and to observe that, perhaps, the rea- 
son why so many anxious mothers fail of success 
is, because they repose with confidence in their 
own skill and labor, neglecting to look to Him 
without whose blessing they do but labor in 
vain 1 

On the other hand, is it not to be feared that 
some pious parents have fallen into an error of 
an opposite kind ? From a full conviction that 
human endeavors are vain, and that it is God 
alone who can change the heart, they are ear- 
nest in their prayers, but not so earnest in their 
endeavors. Such parents should be reminded, 
that if they do not add their exertions to their 
prayers, their children are not likely to be more 
benefited than the children of those who do not 
add their prayers to their exertions. What God 
hath joined, let no man presume to separate. 
It is the work of God, we readily acknowledge, 
to implant religion in the heart, and to main- 
tain it there as a ruling principle of conduct. 
And is it not the same God which causes the 
corn to grow? Are not our natural lives con- 
stantly preserved by his power ? Who will 
deny that in Him we live, and move, and have 
our being ? But how are these works of God 
carried on ? By means which he has appointed. 
By the labor of the husbandman, the corn is 
made to grow ; by food, the body is sustained ; 
and by religious instruction, God is pleased to 
work upon the human heart. But unless we 
diligently plough, and sow, and weed, and ma- 



126 THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 

nure, have we any right to depend on the re- 
freshing showers and ripening suns of heaven, 
for the blessing of an abundant harvest 1 As 
far as we see of the ways of God, all his works 
are carried on by means. It becomes, there- 
fore, our duty to use the means, and trust in 
God ; to remember that God will not work with- 
out the means ; and that the means can effect 
nothing without his blessing. " Paul may plant, 
and A polios water ; but it is God must give the 
increase." But to what does he give the in- 
crease 1 To the exertions of Paul and Apollos. 
It is never said, because God only can give the 
increase, that Paul and Apollos may spare their 
labor. 

It is one grand object to give the young pro- 
bationer just and sober views of the world on 
which she is about to enter. Instead of making 
her bosom bound at the near prospect of eman- 
cipation from her instructors; instead of teach- 
ing her young heart to dance with premature 
flutterings as the critical winter draws near in 
which she is to come out ; instead of raising a 
tumult in her busy imagination at the approach 
of her first grown-up ball, an event held out as 
forming the first grand epocha of female life, as 
the period from which a fresh computation, fix- 
ing the pleasures and independence of woman- 
hood, is to be dated ; instead of this, endeavor 
to convince her, that the world will not turn 
out to be that scene of unvarying and never- 
ending delights which she has perhaps been led 
to expect, not only from the sanguine temper 
and warm spirits natural to youth, but from the 
value she has seen put on those showy accom- 



THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT. 127 

plishments which have too probably been fitting 
her for her exhibition in life. Teach her that 
this world is not a stage for the display of su- 
perficial or even of shining talents, but for the 
strict and sober exercise of fortitude, temper- 
ance, meekness, faith, diligence, and self-denial ; 
of her due performance of which Christian 
graces, angels will be spectators, and God the 
ju,dge. Teach her that human life is not a 
splendid romance, spangled over with brilliant 
adventures, and enriched with extraordinary oc- 
currences, and diversified with wonderful inci- 
dents ; lead her not to expect that it will abound 
with scenes which will call extraordinary quali- 
ties and wonderful powers into perpetual action ; 
and for which, if she acquit herself well, she 
will be rewarded with proportionate fame and 
certain commendation. But apprize her that 
human life is a true history, many passages of 
which will be dull, obscure, and uninteresting ; 
some, perhaps, tragical ; but that whatever gay 
incidents and pleasing scenes may be inter- 
spersed in the progress of the piece, yet finally 
" one event happeneth to all ;" to all there is 
one awful and infallible catastrophe. Apprize 
her that the estimation which mankind forms of 
merit is not always just, nor is its praise very 
exactly proportioned to desert ; tell her that the 
world weighs actions in far different scales from 
" the balance of the sanctuary," and estimates 
worth by a far different standard from that of 
the Gospel. Apprize her that while her purest 
intentions may be sometimes calumniated, and 
her best actions misrepresented, she will, on the 
other hand, be liable to receive commendation 



128 THE BENEFITS OF RESTRAINT, 

on occasions wherein her conscience will tell 
her she has not deserved it ; and that she may 
be extolled by others for actions for which, if 
she be honest, she will condemn herself. 

Do not, however, give her a gloomy and dis- 
couraging picture of the world, but rather seek 
to give her a just and sober view of the part she 
will have to act in it. And restrain the im- 
petuosity of hope, and cool the ardor of expec- 
tation, by explaining to her, that this part even 
in her best estate, will probably consist in a 
succession of petty trials, and a round of quiet 
duties, which, if well performed, though they 
will make little or no figure in the book of fame, 
will prove of vast importance to her in that day 
when another ■* book is opened, and the judg- 
ment is set, and every one will be judged ac- 
cording to the deeds done in the body, whether 
they be good or bad." 

Say not these just and sober views will cruel- 
ly wither her young hopes, blast her budding 
prospects, and deaden the innocent satisfactions 
of life. It is not true. There is, happily, an 
active spring in the mind of youth, which 
bounds with fresh vigor and uninjured elasticity 
from any such temporary depression. It is not 
meant that you should darken her prospect, so 
much as that you should enlighten the eyes of 
her understanding to contemplate it. And, 
though her feelings, tastes, and passions will all 
be against you, if you set before her a faithful 
delineation of life, yet it will be something to 
get her judgment on your side. It is no unkind 
office to assist the short view of youth with the 
aids of long-sighted experience ; to enable them 



ON FEMALE STUDY. 129 

to discover spots in the brightness of that world 
which dazzles them in prospect, though it is 
probable they will after all choose to believe 
their own eyes rather than the offered glass. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

On female study, and initiation into knowledge. — Error of culti* 
vating the imagination to the neglect of the judgment. — Books 
of reasoning recommended. 

As this little work by no means assumes the 
character of a general scheme of education, the 
author has purposely avoided expatiating large- 
ly on any kind of instruction, but as it happens 
to be connected, either immediately or remote- 
ly, with objects of a moral or religious nature. 
Of course, she has been so far from thinking it 
necessary toenter into the enumeration of those 
popular books which are used in general in- 
struction, that she has purposely forborne to 
mention any. With such books the rising gen- 
eration is far more copiously and ably furnished 
than any that has preceded it ; and out of an 
excellent variety, the judicious instructer can 
hardly fail to make such a selection as shall be 
beneficial to the pupil. 

But while due praise ought not to be withheld 
from the improved methods of communicating 
12 



130 ON FEMALE STUDY. 

the elements of general knowledge, yet is there 
not some danger that our very advantages may 
lead us into error, by causing us to repose so 
confidently on the multiplied helps which facili- 
tate the entrance into learning, as to render our 
pupils superficial through the very facility of ac- 
quirement? Where so much is done for them, 
may they not be led to do too little for them- 
selves 1 and besides that exertion may slacken 
for want of a spur, may there not be a moral 
disadvantage in possessing young persons with 
the notion that learning may be acquired with- 
out diligence, and knowledge be attained with- 
out labor 1 Sound education never can be made 
a " primrose path of dalliance. " Do what we 
will, we cannot cheat children into learning, or 
play them into knowledge, according to the 
conciliating smoothness of the modern creed, 
and the selfish indolence of modern habits. 
There is no idle way to. any acquisitions which 
really deserve the name. And as Euclid, in 
order to repress the impetuous vanity of great- 
ness, told his sovereign that there was no royal 
way to geometry, so the fond mother may be 
assured that there is no short cut to any other 
kind of learning; no privileged by-path cleared 
from the thorns and briers of repulse and diffi- 
culty, for the accommodation of opulent inac- 
tivity or feminine weakness. The tree of knowl- 
edge, as a punishment, perhaps, for its having 
been at first unfairly tasted, cannot now be 
climbed without difficulty; and this very cir- 
cumstance serves afterwards to furnish not only 
literary pleasures, but moral advantages. For 
the knowledge which is acquired by unwearied 



OX FEMALE STUDY. 131 

assiduity is lasting in the possession, and sweet 
to the possessor ; both, perhaps, in proportion 
to the cost and labor of the acquisition. And 
though an able teacher ought to endeavor, by 
improving the communicating faculty in himself 
(for many know what they cannot teach,) to 
soften every difficulty, yet, in spite of the kind- 
ness and ability with which he will smooth every 
obstruction, it is probably among the wise insti- 
tutions of Providence that great difficulties 
should still remain. For education is but an 
initiation into that life of trial to which we are 
introduced on our entrance into this world. It 
is the first breaking-in to that state of toil and 
labor, to which we are born, and to which sin 
has made us liable ; and in this view of the sub- 
ject, the pains taken in acquisition of learning 
may be converted to higher uses than such as 
are purely literary. 

Will it not be ascribed to a captious singu- 
larity, if I venture to remark, that real knowl- 
edge and real piety, though they may have 
gained in manv instances, have suffered in oth- 
ers, from that profusion of little, amusing, senti- 
mental books, with which the youthful library 
overflows? Abundance has its dangers, as well 
as scarcity. In the first place, may not the 
multiplicity of these alluring little works in- 
crease the natural reluctance to those more dry 
and uninteresting studies, of which, after all, 
the rudiments of every part of learning must 
consist? And, secondly, is there not some 
danger (though there are many honorable ex- 
ceptions) that some of those engaging narra- 
tives may serve to infuse into the youthful heart 



132 ON FEMALE STUDY. 

a sort of spurious goodness, a confidence of 
virtue, a parade of charity ? and that the be- 
nevolent actions, with the recital of which they 
abound, when they are not made to flow from 
any source but feeling, may tend to inspire a 
self-complacency, a self-gratulation, a " stand 
by, for 1 am holier than thou?" May not the 
success with which the good deeds of the little 
heroes are uniformly crowned, the invariable 
reward which is made the instant concomitant 
of well-doing, furnish the young reader with 
false views of the condition of life, and the na- 
ture of the divine dealings with men ? May 
they not help to suggest a false standard of 
morals, to infuse a love of popularity and an 
anxiety for praise, in the place of that simple 
and unostentatious rule of doing whatever good 
we do, " because it is the will of God V* The 
universal substitution of this principle would 
tend to purify the worldly morality of many a 
popular little story. And there are few dan- 
gers which good parents w:ll more carefully 
guard against, than that of giving their children 
a mere political piety ; that sort of religion 
which just goes to make people more respecta- 
ble, and to stand well with the world ; a reli- 
gion which is to save appearances, without in- 
culcating realities ; a religion which affects to 
" preach peace and good will to men," but which 
forgets to give " glory to God in the highest."* 

* An ingenious (and in many respects useful) French treatise 
on education, has too much encouraged this political piety, by 
considering religion as a thing of human invention, rather than, 
of divine institution ; as a thing creditable, rather than com- 
manded ; by erecting the doctrine of expediency in the room of 
Christian simplicity, and wearing away the spirit of truth by the 
substitution of occasional deceit, equivocation, subterfuge, and 
mental reservation. 



ON FEMALE STUDY. 1 33 

There is a certain precocity of mind, which 
is much helped on by these superficial modes 
of instruction ; for frivolous reading will pro- 
duce its correspondent effect in much less time 
than books of solid instruction ; the imagination 
bei^ig liable to be worked upon, and tiie feel- 
ings to be set a-going, much faster than the un- 

© © © / 

derstanding can be opened and the judgment 
enlightened. A talent for conversation should 
be the result of instruction, not its precursor ; 
it is a golden fruit, when suffered to ripen gra- 
dually on the tree of knowledge ; but if forced 
in the hot-bed of a circulating library, it will 
turn out worthless and vapid in proportion as it 
was artificial and premature. Girls who have 
been accustomed to devour a multitude of frivo- 
lous books, will converse and write with a far 
greater appearance of skill, as to style and sen- 
timent, at twelve or fourteen years old, than 
those of a more advanced age, who are under 
the discipline of severer studies ; but the former, 
having early attained to that low standard which 
had been held out to them, become stationary ; 
while the latter, quietly progressive, are passing 
through just gradations to a higher strain of 
mind ; and those who early begin with talking 
and writing like women, commonly end with 
thinking and acting like children. 

© © 

I would not, however, prohibit such works 
of imagination as suit this early period. When 
moderately used, they serve to stretch the fac- 
ulties and expand the mind ; but I should 
prefer works of vigorous genius and pure, un- 
mixed fable to many of those tame and more 
affected moral stories which are not grounded 
12* 



134 ON FEMALE STUDY. 

on Christian principle. I should suggest the 
use, on the one hand, of original and acknowl- 
edged fictions; and, on the other, of accurate 
and simple facts ; so that truth and fable may 
ever be kept separate and distinct in the mind. 
There is something that kindles fancy, awakens 
genius, and excites new ideas, in many of the 
bold fictions of the East. And there is one 
peculiar merit in the Arabian and some other 
Oriental tales, which is, that they exhibit 
striking, and in many respects faithful views of 
the manners, habits, customs, and religion of 
their respective countries ; so that some tinc- 
ture of real local information is acquired by the 
perusal of the wildest fable, which wiil not be 
without its uses in aiding the future associa- 
tions of the mind in all that relates to Eastern 
history and literature. 

The irregular fancy of women is not suffic- 
iently subdued by early application, nor tamed 
by labor ; and the kind of knowledge they 
commonly do acquire is easily attained ; and, 
being chiefly some slight acquisition of the 
memory, something which is given them to get 
off by themselves, and not grounded in their 
minds by comment and conversation, it is easily 
lost. The superficial question-<LX\<\-answer way, 
for instance, in which they often learn history, 
furnishes the mind with little to lean on; the 
events being detached and separated ; the ac- 
tions having no links to unite them with each 
other ; the characters not being interwoven by 
mutual relation ; the chronology being reduced 
to disconnected dates, instead of presenting an 
unbroken series ; of course, neither events, ac- 



ON FEMALE STUDY. 135 

tions, characters, nor chronology, fasten them- 
selves on the understanding, but rather float in 
the memory as so many detached episodes, than 
contribute to form the mind, and to enrich the 
judgment of the reader in the important science 
of men and manners. 

The swarms of abridgments, beauties, and 
compendiums, which form too considerable a 
part of a young lady's library, may be consid- 
ered, in many instances, as an infallible receipt 
for making a superficial mind. The names of 
the renowned characters in history thus become 
familiar in the mouths of those who can neither 
attach to the ideas of the person, the series of 
his actions, nor the peculiarities of his charac- 
ter. A few fine passages from the poets (pas- 
sages, perhaps, which derived their chief beauty 
from their position and connection) are huddled 
together by some extract-maker, whose brief 
and disconnected patches of broken and dis- 
cordant materials, while they inflame young 
readers with the vanity of reciting, neither fill 
the mind nor form the taste ; and it is not diffi- 
cult to trace back to their shallow sources the 
hackneyed quotations of certain accomplished 
young ladies, who will be frequently found not 
to have come legitimately by any thing they 
know ; I mean not to have drawn it from its 
true spring, the original works of the author, 
from which some beauty-monger has severed it. 
Human inconsistency in this, as in other cases, 
wants to combine two irreconcilable things ; it 
strives to unite the reputation of knowledge 
with the pleasures of idleness, forgetting that 
nothing that is valuable can be obtained with- 
out sacrifices, and that if we would purchase 



136 ON FEMALE STUDY. 

knowledge we must pay for it the fair and law- 
price of time and industry. For this extract- 
reading, while it accommodates itself to the 
convenience, illustrates the character, of the 
age in which we live. The appetite for pleas- 
ure, and that love of ease and indolence which 
is generated by it, leaves little time or taste for 
sound improvement ; while the vanity, which is 
equally a characteristic of the existing period, 
puts in its claim also for indulgence, and con- 
trives to figure away by these little snatches of 
ornamental reading, caught in the short inter- 
vals of successive amusements. 

Besides, the taste, thus pampered with delic- 
ious morsels, is early vitiated. The young 
reader of these clustered beauties conceives a 
disrelish for every thing which is plain ; and 
grows impatient, if obliged to get through those 
equally necessary though less showy parts of a 
work, in which, perhaps, the author gives the 
best proof of his judgment by keeping under 
that occasional brilliancy and incidental orna- 
ment, of which these superficial students are in 
constant pursuit. In all well-written books, 
there is much that is good which is not daz- 
zling; and these shallow critics should be 
taught, that it is for the embellishment of the 
more tame and uninteresting parts of his work, 
that the judicious poet commonly reserves those 
flowers, whose beauty is defaced when they are 
plucked from the garland into which he had so 
skilfully woven them. 

The remark, however, as far as it relates to 
abridgments, is by no means of general appli- 
cation ; there are many valuable works, which 



ON FEMALE STUDY 137 

from their bulk would be almost inaccessible to 
a great number of readers, and a considerable 
part of which may not be generally useful. 
Even in the best written books there is often 
superfluous matter ; authors are apt to get 
enamored of their subject, and to dwell too 
long on it : every person cannot find time to 
read a longer work on any subject, and yet it 
may be well for them to know something on 
almost every subject ; those, therefore, who 
abridge voluminous works judiciously, render 
service to the community. Rut there seems, if 
I may venture the remark, to be a mistake in 
the use of abridgments. They are put sys- 
tematically into the hands of youth, who have, 
or ought to have, leisure for the works at large ; 
while abridgments seem more immediately cal- 
culated for persons in more advanced life, who 
wish to recall something they had forgotten ; 
who want to restore old ideas, rather than ac- 
quire new ones ; or they are useful for persons 
immersed in the business of the world, who 
have little leisure for voluminous reading : they 
are excellent to refresh the mind, but not com- 
petent to form it : they serve to bring back 
what had been formerly known, but do not 
supply a fund of knowledge. 

Perhaps there is some analogy between the 
mental and bodily conformation of women. 
The instructer, therefore, should imitate the 
physician. If the latter prescribe bracing med- 
icines for a body of which delicacy is the dis- 
ease, the former would do well to prohibit 
relaxing reading for a mind which is already 
of too soft a texture, and should strengthen 
its feeble tone by invigorating reading. 



138 ON FEMALE STUDY. 

By softness, I cannot be supposed to mean 
imbecility of understanding, but natural soft- 
ness of heart, and pliancy of temper, together 
with that indolence of spirit which is fostered 
by indulging in seducing books, and in the 
general habits of fashionable life. 

I mean not here to recommend books which 
are immediately religious, but such as exercise 
the reasoning faculties, teach the mind to get 
acquainted with its own nature, and to stir up 
its own powers. Let not. a timid young lady 
start if I should venture to recommend to her, 
after a proper course of preparatory reading, to 
swallow and digest such strong meat as Watts's 
or, Duncan's little book of Logic, some parts of 
Mr. Locke's Essay on the Human Understand- 
ing, and Bishop Butler's Analogy. Where 
there is leisure, and capacity, and an able 
friend to comment and to counsel, works of this 
nature might be profitably substituted in the 
place of so much English sentiment, French 
philosophy, Italian love-songs, and fantastic 
German imagery and magic wonders. While 
such enervating or absurd books sadly disqual- 
ify the reader for solid pursuit or vigorous 
thinking, the studies here recommended would 
act upon the constitution of the mind as a kind 
of alterative; and, if I may be allowed the ex- 
pression, would help to brace the intellectual 
stamina. 

This suggestion is, however, by no means 
intended to exclude works of taste and imagi- 
nation, which must always make the ornament- 
al part, and of course a very considerable part, 
of female studies. It is only intimated, that 



ON FEMALE STUDY. 139 

they should not form them entirely and exclu- 
sively. For what is called dry, tough reading, 
independent of the knowledge it conveys, is 
useful as a habit, and wholesome as an exer- 
cise. Serious study serves to harden the mind 
for more trying conflicts ; it lifts the reader 
from sensation to intellect ; it abstracts her 
from the world and its vanities ; it fixes a wan- 
dering spirit, and fortifies a weak one ; it di- 
vorces her from matter ; it corrects that spirit 
of trifling which she naturally contracts from 
the frivolous turn of female conversation and 
the petty nature of female employments ; it 
concentrates her attention, assists her in a habit 
of excluding trivial thoughts, and thus even 
helps to qualify her for religious pursuits. Yes, 
I repeat it, there is to woman a Christian use to 
be made of sober studies ; while books of an 
opposite cast, however unexceptionable they 
may be sometimes found in point of expression, 
however free from evil in its more gross and 
palpable shapes, yet from their very nature and 
constitution they excite a spirit of relaxation, 
by exhibiting scenes and suggesting ideas which 
soften the mind, and set the fancy at work ; 
they take off wholesome restraints, diminish 
sober-mindedness, impair the general poAvers of 
resistance, and at best feeds habits of improper 
indulgence, and nourish a vain and visionary 
indolence, which lays the mind open to error 
and the heart to seduction. 

Women are little accustomed to close rea- 
soning on any subject : still less do they inure 
their minds to consider particular parts of a 
subject ; they are not habituated to turn a truth 



140 ON FEMALE STUDY, 

round, and view it in all its varied aspects and 
positions ; and this, perhaps, is one cause (as 
will be observed in another place*) of the too 
great confidence they are disposed to place in 
their own opinions. Though their imagination 
is already too lively, and their judgment nat- 
urally incorrect, in educating them, we go on 
to stimulate the imagination, while we neglect 
the regulation of the judgment. They already 
want ballast, and we make their education con- 
sist in continually crowding more sail than they 
can carry. Their intellectual powers being so 
little strengthened by exercise, makes every 
petty business appear a hardship to them ; 
whereas, serious study would be useful, were 
it only that it leads the mind to the habit of 
conquering difficulties. But it is peculiarly 
hard to turn at once from the indolent repose 
of light reading, from the concerns of mere 
animal life> the objects of sense, or the frivo- 
lousness of female chit-chat ; it is peculiarly 
hard, I say, to a mind so softened, to rescue 
itself from the dominion of self-indulgence, to 
resume its powers, to call home its scattered 
strength, to shut out every foreign intrusion, to 
force back a spring so unnaturally bent, and to 
devote itself to religious reading, to active busi- 
ness, to sober reflection, to self-examination. 
Whereas, to an intellect accustomed to think at 
all, the difficulty of thinking seriously is obvi- 
ously lessened. 

Far be it from me to desire to make scholas- 
tic ladies or female dialecticians ; but there is 

* Chapter of Conversation. 



ON FEMALE STUDY. 141 

little fear that the kind of books here recom- 
mended, if thoroughly studied, and not super- 
ficially skimmed, will make them pedants, or 
induce conceit ; for by showing them the pos- 
sible powers of the human mind, you will bring 
them to see the littleness of their own ; and, 
surely, to get acquainted with the mind, to 
regulate, to inform it, to show it its own igno- 
rance and its own .nature, does not seem the 
way to puff it up. But let her who is disposed 
to be elated with her literary acquisitions, check 
the rising vanity by calling to mind the just re- 
mark of Swift, " that, after all her boasted 
acquirements, a woman will,, generally speak- 
ing, be found to possess less of what is called 
learning than a common school-boy." 

Neither is there any fear that this sort of 
reading, will convert ladies into authors. The 
direct contrary effect will be likely to be pro- 
duced by the perusal of writers who throw the 
generality of readers at such an unapproachable 
distance as to check presumption, instead of 
exciting it. Who are those ever-multiplying 
authors, that, with unparalleled fecundity, are 
overstocking the world with their quick-suc- 
ceeding progeny ? They are novel writers — 
the easiness of whose productions is at once the 
cause of their own fruitfulness, and of the al- 
most infinitely numerous race of imitators to 
whom they give birth. Such is the frightful 
facility of this species of composition, that every 
raw girl, while she reads, is tempted to fancy 
that she can also write. And as Alexander, 
on perusing the Iliad, found by congenial sym- 
pathy the image of Achilles stamped on his 
13 



142 ON FEMALE STUDY. 

own ardent soul, and felt himself the hero he 
was studying; and as Corregio, on first behold- 
ing a picture which exhibited the perfection of 
the graphic art, prophetically felt all his own 
future greatness, and cried out in rapture, 
" And 1, too, am a painter !" so a thorough- 
paced novel-reading miss, at the close of every 
tissue of hackneyed adventures, feels within 
herself the stirring impulse of corresponding 
genius, and triumphantly exclaims, " And I, 
too, am an author !" The glutted imagination 
soon overflows 'with the redundance of cheap 
sentiment and plentiful incident; and, by a 
sort of arithmetical proportion, is enabled, by 
the perusal of any three novels, to produce a 
fourth ; till every fresh production, like the 
prolific progeny of Banquo, is followed by 

Another, and another, and another! 

Is a lady, however destitute of talents, educa- 
tion, or knowledge of the world, whose studies 
have been completed by a circulating library, 
in any distress of mind ? the writing a novel 
suggests itself, as the best soother of her sor- 
rows ! Does she labor under any depression of 
circumstances ? writing a novel occurs as the 
readiest receipt for mending them ! And she 
solaces her imagination with the conviction 
that the subscription which has been extorted 
by her importunity, or given to her necessities, 
has been offered as a homage to her genius. 
And this confidence instantly levies a fresh con- 
tribution for a succeeding work. Capacity and 
cultivation are so little taken into the account, 
that writing a book seems to be now considered 



ON FEMALE STUDY. 143 

as the only sure resource which the idle and 
the illiterate have always in their power. 

M'ay the author be indulged in a short di- 
gression while she remarks, though rather out 
of its place, that the corruption occasioned by 
these books has spread so wide, and descended 
so low, as to have become one of the most uni- 
versal, as well as most pernicious, sources of 
corruption among us. Not only among millin- 
ers, mantua-makers, and other trades where 
numbers work together, the labor of one girl is 
frequently sacrificed, that she may be spared to 
read those mischievous books to the others ; 
but she has been assured by clergymen who 
have witnessed the fact, that they are procured 
and greedily read in the wards of our hospitals! 
an awful hint, that those who teach the poor to 
read, should not only take care to furnish them 
with principles which will lead them to abhor 
corrupt books, but that they should also furnish 
them with such books as shall strengthen and 
confirm their principles.* And let every Chris- 

* The above facts furnish no argument on the side of those 
who would keep the poor in ignorance. Those who cannot read 
can hear, and are likely to hear to worse purpose than those who 
have been better taught. And that ignorance furnishes no secu- 
rity for integrity either in morals or politics, the late revolts in 
more than one country, remarkable for the ignorance of the poor, 
fully illustrate. It is earnestly hoped that the above facts may 
tend to impress ladies with the importance of superintending the 
instruction of the poor, and of making it an indispensable part of 
their charity to give them mora! and religious books. 

The late celebrated Henry Fielding (a man not likely to be sus- 
pected of over-strictness) assured a particular friend of the au- 
thor, that during his long administration of justice in Bow Street, 
only sir Scotchmen were brought before him. The remark did 
not proceed from any national partiality in the magistrate, but 
was produced by him in proof of the effect of a sober and religious 
education among the lower ranks, on their morals and conduct. 

See, further, the sentiments of a still more celebrated contem- 
porary on the duty of instructing the poor. "We have been 



144 ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 

tian remember, that there is no other way of 
entering truly into the spirit of that divine 
prayer, which petitions that the name of God 
may be " hallowed," that " his kingdom (of 
grace) may come," and that " his will may be 
done on earth as it is in heaven," than by each 
individual contributing according to his meas- 
ure to accomplish the work for which he prays; 
for to pray that these great objects may be pro- 
moted, without contributing to their promotion 
by our exertions, our money, and our influence, 
is a palpable inconsistency. 



CHAPTER IX. 

On the religious and moral use of History and Geography. 

While every sort of useful knowledge should 
be carefully imparted to young persons, it should 
be imparted not merely for its own sake, but 
also for the sake of its subserviency to higher 
things. All human learning should be taught, 
not as an end, but a means ; and, in this view, 

taught that the circumstance of the Gospel's being preached to 
the poor was one of the surest tests of its mission. We think, 
therefore, that those do not believe it, who do not take care it 
should be preached to the poor." — Burke on the French Revo- 
lution. 

[The author hns made a slight mistake in this note. The 
magistrate who passed the encomium on the Scotch, was Sir 
John Fielding, and not his brother Henry. — Ed.] 



ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 145 

even a lesson of history or geography may be 
converted into a lesson of religion. In the 
study of history, the instructer will accustom 
the pupil not merely to store her memory with 
facts and anecdotes, and to ascertain dates and 
epochs ; but she will accustom her also to trace 
effects to their causes, to examine the secret 
springs of action, and accurately to observe the 
operation of the passions. It is only meant to 
notice here some few of the moral benefits 
which may be derived from a judicious perusal 
of history ; and from among other points of in- 
struction, I select the following :* 

The study of history may serve to give a 
clearer insight into the corruption of human 
nature : 

It may help to show the plan of Providence 
in the direction of events, and in the use of un- 
worthy instruments : 

It may assist in the vindication of Provi- 
dence, in the common failure of virtue, and the 
frequent success of vice : 

It may lead to a distrust of our own judg- 
ment : 



* Tt were to be wished that more historians resembled the ex- 
cellent Rollin, in the religious and moral turn given to his 
writings of this kind. But here may I be permitted to observe 
incidentally (for it is not immediately analogous to my subject), 
that there is one disadvantage which attends the common prac- 
tice of setting young ladies to read ancient history and geography 
in French or Italian, who have not been pieviously well ground- 
ed in the pronunciation of classical names of persons and places 
in our own language. The foreign terminations of Greek and 
Roman names are often very different from the English, and 
where they are first acquired, are frequently retained and adopted 
in their stead, so as to give an illiterate appearance to the con- 
versation of some women who are not really ignorant. And this 
defective pronunciation is the more to be guarded against in the 
education of ladies, who are not taught quantity as boys are. 

13* 



146 ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 

It may contribute to our improvement in self- 
knowledge. 

But, to prove to the pupil the important doc- 
trine of human corruption from the study of 
history, will require a truly Christian commen- 
tator in the friend with whom the work is 
perused. For, from the low standard of right 
established by the generality of historians, who 
erect so many persons into good characters who 
fall short of the true idea of Christian virtue, 
the unassisted reader will be liable to form 
very imperfect views of what is real goodness ; 
and will conclude, as his author sometimes 
does, that the true idea of human nature is to 
be taken from the medium between his best 
and his worst characters, without acquiring a 
just notion of that prevalence of evil, which, in 
spite of those few brighter luminaries that here 
and there just serve to gild the gloom of his- 
tory, tends abundantly to establish the doctrine. 
It will, indeed, be continually establishing itself 
by those who, in perusing the history of man- 
kind, carefully mark the rise and progress of 
sin, from the first timid irruption of an evil 
thought, to the fearless accomplishment of the 
abhorred crime in which that thought has end- 
ed ; from the indignant question, " Is thy ser- 
vant a dog, that he should do this great 
thing ?"* to the perpetration of that very enor- 
mity of which the self-acquitting delinquent 
could not endure the slightest suggestion. 

In this connection, may it not be observed, 
that young persons should be put on their 

* 2 Kinga, viii. 13. 



ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 147 

guard against a too implicit belief in the flatter- 
ing accounts which many voyage-writers are 
fond of exhibiting, of the virtue, amiableness, 
and benignity of some of the countries newly 
discovered by our circumnavigators ; that they 
should learn to suspect the superior goodness 
ascribed to the Hindoos, and particularly the 
account of the inhabitants of the Pelew 
Islands 1 These last, indeed, have been rep- 
resented as having almost escaped the uni- 
versal taint of our common nature, and would 
seem by their purity to have sprung from 
another ancestor than Adam. 

We cannot forbear suspecting that these 
pleasing but somewhat overcharged portraits of 
man in his natural state, are drawn with the 
invidious design, by counteracting the doctrine 
of human corruption, to degrade the value, and 
even destroy the necessity, of the Christian 
sacrifice : by insinuating that uncultivated man 
is so disposed to rectitude as to supersede the 
occasion for that redemption which is pro- 
fessedly designed for sinners. That in coun- 
tries professing Christianity, very many are 
not Christians, will be too readily granted. 
Yet, to say nothing of the vast superiority of 
goodness in the lives of those who are really 
governed by Christianity, is there not some- 
thing, even in her reflex light, which guides to 
greater purity many of those who do not pro- 
fess to walk by it ? I doubt much, if numbers 
of the unbelievers of a Christian country, from 
the sounder views and better habits derived in- 
cidentally and collaterally, as it were, from the 
influence of a Gospel, the truth of which, how- 



148 ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 

ever, they do not acknowledge, would not start 
at many of the actions which these heathen per- 
fectionists daily commit without hesitation. 

The religious reader of general history will 
observe the controlling hand of Providence in 
the direction of events, in turning the most un- 
worthy actions and instruments to the accom- 
plishment of his own purposes. She will mark 
infinite wisdom directing what appears to be 
casual occurrences, to the completion of his 
own plan. She will point out how causes 
seemingly the most unconnected, events seem- 
ingly the most unpromising, circumstances 
seemingly the most incongruous, are all work- 
ing together for some final good. She will 
mark how national as well as individual crimes 
are often overruled to some hidden purpose far 
different from the intention of the actors; how 
Omnipotence can, and often does, bring about 
the best purposes by the worst instruments ; 
how the bloody and unjust conqueror is but 
" the rod of his wrath," to punish or to purify 
his offending children ; how " the fury of the 
oppressor," and the sufferings of the oppressed, 
will one day, when the whole scheme shall be 
unfolded, vindicate his righteous dealings. She 
will explain to the less enlightened reader, how 
infinite wisdom often mocks the insignificance 
of human greatness, and the shallowness of hu- 
man ability, by setting aside instruments the 
most powerful and promising, while He works 
by agents comparatively contemptible. But she 
will carefully guard this doctrine of divine Prov- 
idence, thus working out his own purposes 
through the sins of his creatures, and by the 



ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 149 

instrumentality of the wicked, by calling to 
mind, while the offender is but a tool in the 
hands of the great Artificer, " the wo de- 
nounced against him by whom the offence 
cometh !" She will explain how those muta- 
tions and revolutions in states which appear to 
us so unaccountable, and how those operations 
of Providence which seem to us so entangled 
and complicated, all move harmoniously and in 
perfect order ; that there is not an event but 
has its commission ; not a misfortune which 
breaks its allotted rank ; not a trial which 
moves out of its appointed track. While ca- 
lamities and crimes seem to fly in casual con- 
fusion, all is commanded or permitted ; all is 
under the control of a wisdom which cannot 
err, of a goodness which cannot do wrong. 

To explain my meaning by a few instances. 
When the spirit of the youthful reader rises in 
honest indignatiou at the hypocritical piety 
which divorced an unoffending queen to make 
way for the lawful crime of our eighth Henry's 
marriage with Ann Boleyn ; and when that in- 
dignation is increased by the more open profli- 
gacy which brought about the execution of the 
latter; the instructer will not lose so fair an 
occasion for unfolding how, in the counsels of 
the Most High, the crimes of the king were 
overruled to the happiness of the country ; and 
how, to this inauspicious marriage, from which 
the heroic Elizabeth sprang, the Protestant re- 
ligion owed its firm stability. This view of the 
subject will lead the reader to justify the provi- 
dence of God, without diminishing her abhor- 
rence of the vices of the tyrant. 



150 ON THE RELIGrOUS USE OF HISTORY. 

She will explain to her, how even the con- 
quests of ambition, after having deluged the 
land with blood, involved the perpetrator in 
guilt, and the innocent victim in ruin, may yet 
be made the instrument of opening to future 
generations the way to commerce, to civiliza- 
tion, to Christianity. She may remind her, as 
they are following Caesar in his invasion of 
Britain, that whereas the conqueror fancied he 
was only gratifying his own inordinate am- 
bition, extending the flight of the Roman eagle, 
immortalizing his own name, and proving that 
n this world was made for Caesar ;" he was in 
reality becoming the effectual though uncon- 
scious instrument of leading a land of barbari- 
ans to civilization and to science ; and was, in 
fact, preparing an island of pagans to embrace 
the religion of Christ. She will inform her, 
that when afterwards the victorious country of 
the same Caesar had made Judea a Roman 
province, and the Jews had become its tribu- 
taries, the Romans did not know, nor did the 
indignant Jews suspect, that this, circumstance 
was operating to the confirmation of an event 
the most important the world ever witnessed. 

For when " Augustus sent forth a decree, 
that all the world should be taxed," he vainly 
thought he was only enlarging his own impe- 
rial power ; whereas, he was acting in uncon- 
scious subservience to the decree of a higher 
Sovereign, and was helping to ascertain by a 
public act the exact period of Christ's birth, 
and furnishing a record of his extraction from 
that family from which it was predicted by a 
long line of prophets that he should spring. 



ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 151 

Herod's atrocious murder of the innocents has 
added an additional circumstance for the con- 
firmation of our faith; the incredulity of Thomas 
has strengthened our belief; nay, the treachery 
of Judas, and the injustice of Pilate, were the 
human instruments employed for the salvation 
of the world. 

The youth that is not thoroughly armed with 
Christian principles, will be tempted to mutiny 
not only against the justice, but the very ex- 
istence of a superintending Providence, in con- 
templating those frequent instances which occur 
in history of the ill-success of the more virtuous 
cause, and the prosperity of the wicked. He 
will see with astonishment that it is Rome 
which triumphs, while Carthage, which had 
clearly the better cause, falls. Now and then, 
indeed, a Cicero prevails, and a Catiline is sub- 
dued ; but, often, it is Caesar successful against 
the somewhat juster pretensions of Pompey, and 
against the still clearer cause of Cato. It is 
Octavius who triumphs, and it is over Brutus 
that he triumphs ! It is Tiberius who is en- 
throned, while Germanicus falls! 

Thus his faith in a righteous Providence at 
first view is staggered, and he is ready to say, 
" Surely it is not God that governs the earth !" 
But on a fuller consideration (and here the 
suggestions of a Christian instructer are pecu- 
liarly wanted), there will appear great wisdom 
in this very confusion of vice and virtue ; for it 
is calculated to send our .thoughts forward to a 
world of retribution, the principle of retribution 
being so imperfectly established in this. It is, 
indeed, so far common for virtue to have the 



152 ON" THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 

advantage here, in point of happiness at least, 
though not of glory, that the course of Provi- 
dence is still calculated to prove that God is on 
the side of virtue ; but still, virtue is so often 
unsuccessful, that clearly the God of virtue, in 
order that his work may be perfect, must have 
in reserve a world of retribution. This con- 
fused state of things, therefore, is just that state 
which is most of all calculated to confirm the 
deeply-considerate mind in the belief of a fu- 
ture state ; for if all here were even or very 
nearly so, should we not say, " Justice is 
already satisfied, and there needs no other 
world V — On the other hand, if vice always 
triumphed, should we not then be ready to 
argue in favor of vice rather than virtue, and to 
wish for no other world 1 

It seems so very important to ground young 
persons in the belief that they will not inevi- 
tably meet in this world with reward and suc- 
cess according to their merit, and to habituate 
them to expect even the most virtuous attempts 
to be often, though not always disappointed, 
that I am in danger of tautology on this point. 
This fact is precisely what history teaches. 
The truth should be plainly told to the young 
reader; and the antidote to that evil, which 
mistaken and worldly people would expect to 
arise from divulging this discouraging doctrine, 
is faith. The importance of faith, therefore, 
and the necessity of it, to real, unbending, and 
persevering virtue, is surely made plain by pro- 
fane history itself. For the same thing which 
happens to states and kings, happens to private 
life and to individuals. Thus there is scarcely 



ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 153 

a page, even of pagan history, which may not 
be made instrumental to the establishing of the 
truth of revelation ; and it is only by such a 
guarded mode of instruction that some of the 
evils attending on the study of ancient litera- 
ture can be obviated. 

Distrust and diffidence in our own judgment 
seems to be also an important instruction to be 
learnt from history. Flow contrary to all ex- 
pectation do the events therein recorded com- 
monly turn out ! Kow continually is the most 
sagacious conjecture of human penetration 
baffled ! and yet we proceed to foretell this 
consequence, and to predict that event from 
the appearances of things under our own obser- 
vation, with the same arrogant certainty as if 
we had never been warned by the monitory an- 
nals of successive ages, 

There is scarcely one great event in history 
which does not, in the issue, produce effects 
upon which human foresight could never have 
calculated, The success of Augustus against 
his country produced peace in many distant 
provinces, who thus ceased to be harassed and 
tormented by this oppressive republic. Could 
this effect have been foreseen, it might have 
sobered the despair of Cato, and checked the 
vehemence of Brutus. In politics, in short, in 
every thing except in morals and religion, all 
is, to a considerable degree, uncertain. This 
reasoning- is not meant to show that Cato ought 
not to have fought, but that he ought not to 
have desponded even after the last battle ; and 
certainly, even upon his own principles, ought 
not to have killed himself, It would be de- 
14 



1 54 ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OP HISTORY. 

parting too much from my object to apply this 
argument, however obvious the application, 
against those who were driven to unreasonable 
distrust and despair by the late successes of a 
neighboring nation. 

But all knowledge will be comparatively of 
little value, if we neglect self-knowledge ; and 
of self-knowledge, history and biography may 
be made successful vehicles. It will be to little 
purpose that our pupils become accurate critics 
on the characters of others, while they remain 
ignorant of themselves ; for while those who 
exercise a habit of self-application, a book of 
profane history may be made an instrument of 
improvement in this difficult science, so, with- 
out such a habit, the Bible itself may, in this 
view, be read with little profit. 

It will be to no purpose that the reader 
weeps over the fortitude of the Christian hero, 
or the constancy of the martyr, if she do not 
bear in mind that she herself is called to endure 
her own common trials with something of the 
same temper ; if she do not bear in mind that 
to control irregular humors, and to submit to 
the daily vexations of life, will require, though 
in a lower degree, the exertion of the same 
principle, and supplication for the aid of the 
same Spirit, which sustained the Christian hero 
in the trying conflicts of life, or the martyr in 
his agony at the stake. 

May I be permitted to suggest a few instan- 
ces, by way of specimen, how both sacred and 
common history may tend to promote self- 
knowledge? And let me again remind the 
warm admirer of suffering piety under extraor- 



ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OP HISTORY. 155 

dinary trials, that if she now fail in the petty 
occasions to which she is actually called out, 
she would not be likely to have stood in those 
more trying occasions which excite her ad- 
miration. 

While she is applauding the self-denying 
saint who renounced his ease, or chose to em- 
brace death, rather than violate his duty, let 
her ask herself if she has never refused to sub- 
mit to the paltry inconvenience of giving up 
her company, or even altering her dinner-hour 
on Sunday, though by this trifling sacrifice her 
family might have been enabled to attend the 
public worship in the afternoon. 

While she reads with horror that Belshazzar 
was rioting with his thousand nobles at the 
very moment when the Persian army was 
bursting through the brazen gates of Babylon, 
is she very sure that she herself, in an almost 
equally imminent moment of public danger, has 
not been nightly indulging in every species of 
dissipation 1 

When she is deploring the inconsistency of 
the human heart, while she contrasts in Mark 
Antony his bravery and contempt of ease at 
one period, with his licentious indulgences at 
another ; or while she laments over the in- 
trepid soul of Csesar, whom she had been fol- 
lowing in his painful marches, or admiring in 
his contempt of death, now dissolved in disso- 
lute pleasures with the ensnaring Queen of 
Egypt;* let her examine whether she herself 
has never, though in a much lower degree,, 

* Cleopatra. 



156 ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 

evinced something of the same inconsistency ; 
whether she who lives, perhaps, an orderly, 
sober, and reasonable life during her summer 
residence in the country, does not plunge with 
little scruple in the winter into all the most ex- 
travagant pleasures of the capital ; whether she 
never carries about with her an accommodating 
kind of religion, which can be made to bend to 
places and seasons, to climates and customs, to 
times and circumstances ; which takes its tinc- 
ture from the fashion without, and not its habits 
from the principle within ; which is decent with 
the pious, sober with the orderly, and loose with 
the licentious. 

While she is admiring the generosity of 
Alexander in giving away kingdoms and prov- 
inces, let her, in order to ascertain whether she 
could imitate this magnanimity, take heed if 
she herself is daily seizing all the little occa- 
sions of doing good, which every day presents 
to the affluent. Her call is not to sacrifice a 
province; but does she sacrifice an opera 
ticket ? She who is not doing all the good she 
can under her present circumstances, would 
not do all she foresees she should, in imaginary 
ones, were her power enlarged to the extent of 
her wishes. 

While she is inveighing with patriotic indig- 
nation, that in a neighboring metropolis thirty 
theatres were open every night in time of war 
and public calamity, is she very clear that in a 
metropolis which contains only three, she was 
not almost constantly at one of them in time of 
war and public calamity also ? For though in 
a national view it may make a wide difference 



ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 157 

whether there be in the capital three theatres 
or thirty, yet, as the same person can only go 
to one of them at once, it makes but little 
difference as to the quantum of dissipation in 
the individual. She who rejoices at success- 
ful virtue in a history, or at the prosperity of a 
person whose interests do not interfere with 
her own, may exercise her self-knowledge, by 
examining whether she rejoices equally at the 
happiness of every one about her ; and let her 
remember she does not rejoice at it in the true 
sense, if she does not labor to promote it. She 
who glows with rapture at a virtuous character 
in history, should ask her own heart, whether 
she is equally ready to do justice to the fine 
qualities of her acquaintance, though she may 
not particularly love them ; and whether she 
takes unfeigned pleasure in the superior talents, 
virtues, fame, and fortune of those, whom she 
professes to love, though she is eclipsed by 
them. 

In like manner, in the study of geography 
and natural history, the attention should be 
habitually turned to the goodness of Provi- 
dence, who commonly adapts the various pro- 
ductions of climates to the peculiar wants of 
the respective inhabitants. To illustrate my 
meaning by one or two instances out of a 
thousand. The reader may be led to admire 
the considerate goodness of Providence in hav- 
ing caused the spiry fir, whose slender foliage 
does not obstruct the beams of the sun, to grow 
in the dreary regions of the north, whose shiv- 
ering inhabitants could spare none of its scanty 
rays ; while in the torrid zone, the palm-tree, 
14* 



158 ON THE RELIGIOUS USE OF HISTORY. 

the plantain, and the banana spread their um- 
brella leaves, to break the almost intolerable. 
fervors of a vertical sun. How the camel, who 
is the sole carrier of all the merchandise of 
Turkey, Persia, Egypt, Arabia, and Barbary, 
who is obliged to transport his incredible bur- 
dens through countries in which pasture is so 
rare, can subsist twenty-four hours without 
food, and can travel, loaded, many days without 
water, through dry and dusty deserts, which 
supply none ; and all this, not from the habit, 
but from the conformation of the animal ; for 
naturalists make this conformity of powers to 
climates a rule of judgment, in ascertaining the 
native countries of animals, and always deter- 
mining it to be that to which their powers and 
properties are most appropriate. 

Thus the writers of natural history are, per- 
haps, unintentionally magnifying the operations 
of Providence, when they insist that animals 
do not modify and give way to the influence of 
other climates : but here they too commonly 
stop ; neglecting, or perhaps refusing, to as- 
cribe to Infinite Goodness this wise and merci- 
ful accommodation. And here the pious in- 
structer will come in, in aid of their deficiency ; 
for philosophers too seldom trace up causes, and 
wonders, and blessings to their Author. And 
it is peculiarly to be regretted that a late justly 
celebrated French naturalist,* who, though not 



* George Louis le Clerc, Count de Bnffori, born in 1707, and 
died in 1788. The character here given of this celebrated natu- 
ralist agrees with what is said of him by his own countrymen. — 
He left an only son, who, notwithstanding the splendor of his 
name, perished on the scaffold, in 1793 ; his last words being, 
"IamBuffon."— Ed. 



ON DEFINITIONS. 159 

famous for his accuracy, possessed such diver- 
sified powers of description that he had the 
talent of making the driest subjects interesting ; 
together with such a liveliness of delineation, 
that his characters of animals are drawn with a 
spirit and variety rather to be looked for in an 
historian of men than of beasts ; it is to be re- 
gretted, I say, that this writer, with all his 
excellences, is absolutely inadmissible into the 
library of a young lady, both on account of his 
immodesty and his impiety ; and if, in wishing 
to exclude him, it may be thought wrong to 
have given him so much commendation, it is 
only meant to show that the author is not led 
to reprobate his principles from insensibility to 
his talents. The remark is rather made to put 
the reader on remembering; that no brilliancy 
of genius, no diversity of attainments, should 
ever be allowed as a commutation for defective 
principles and corrupt ideas.* 



CHAPTER X. 

On the use of definitions, and the moral benefits of accuracy 
in language. 

" Persons having been accustomed, from 
their cradles, to learn words before they knew 

* Goldsmith's History of Animated Nature has many refer- 
ences to a divine Author. It is to be wished that some judicious 
person would publish a new edition of this work, purified from 
the indelicate and offensive parts. 



160 ON DEFINITIONS. 

the ideas for which they stand, usually con- 
tinue to do so all their lives, never taking the 
pains to settle in their minds the determined 
ideas which belong to them. This want of a 
precise signification in their words, when they 
come to reason, especially in moral matters, is 
the cause of very obscure and uncertain no- 
tions. They use these undetermined words 
confidently, without much troubling their heads 
about a certain fixed meaning; whereby, be- 
sides the ease of it, they obtain this advantage, 
that as in such discourse they are seldom in 
the right, so they are as seldom to be con- 
vinced that they are in the wrong, it being just 
the same to go about to draw those persons 
out of their mistakes, who have no settled no- 
tions, as to dispossess a vagrant of his habita- 
tion who has no settled abode. The chief end 
of language being to be understood, words 
serve not for that end, when they do not excite 
in the hearer the same idea which they stand 
for in the mind of the speaker.' 5 * 

I have chosen to shelter myself under the 
broad sanction of the great author here quoted, 
with a view to apply this rule in philology to a 
moral purpose : for it applies to the veracity of 
conversation as much as to its correctness ; 
and as strongly recommends unequivocal and 
simple truth, as accurate and just expression. 
Scarcely any one, perhaps, has an adequate 
conception how much clear and correct ex- 
pression favors the elucidation of truth ; and 
the side of truth is obviously the side of morals ; 

* Locke. 



ON DEFINITIONS. 161 

it is in fact one and the same cause ; and it is, 
of coarse, the same cause with that of true 
religion also. 

It is therefore no worthless part of education, 
even in a religious view, to study the precise 
meaning of words, and the appropriate signifi- 
cation of language. To this end, I know no 
better method than to accustom young persons 
very early to a habit of denning common words 
and things ; for, as definition seems to lie at 
the root of correctness, to be accustomed to de- 
fine English words in English, would improve 
the understanding more than barely to know 
what those words are called in French, Italian, 
or Latin. Or rather, one use of learning other 
languages is, because definition is often in- 
volved in etymology ; that is, since many Eng- 
lish words take their derivation from foreign or 
ancient languages, they cannot be so accurately 
understood without some knowledge of those 
languages: but precision of any kind, either 
moral or philological, too seldom finds its way 
into the education of women. 

It is, perhaps, going out of my province to 
observe, that it might be well if young men, 
also, before they entered on the world, were to 
be furnished with correct definitions of certain 
words, the use of which is become rather am- 
biguous ; or rather, they should be instructed 
in the double sense of modern phraseology. 
For instance, they should be provided with a 
good definition of the word honor, in the fash- 
ionable sense, showing what vices it includes, 
and what virtues it does not include : the 
term good company, which even the courtly 



162 ON DEFINITIONS. 

Petronius* of oar days has defined as some- 
times including not a few immoral and disrep- 
utable characters : religion, which, in the vari- 
ous senses assigned it by the world, sometimes 
means superstition, sometimes fanaticism, and 
sometimes a mere disposition to attend on any 
kind or form of worship : the word goodness, 
which is meant to mean every thing that is not 
notoriously bad ; and sometimes even that too, 
if what is notoriously bad be accompanied by 
good humor, pleasing manners, and a little 
alms-giving. By these means they would go 
forth armed against many of the false opinions, 
which, through the abuse or ambiguous mean- 
ing of words, pass so current in the world. 

But to return to the youthful part of that sex 
which is the more immediate object of this 
little work. With correct definition they should 
also be taught to study the shades of words; 
and this not merely with a view to accuracy of 
expression, though even that involves both 
sense and elegance, but with a view to moral 
truth. 

It may be thought ridiculous to assert, that 
morals have any connection with the purity of 
language, or that the precision of truth may be 
violated through defect of critical exactness in 
the three degrees of comparison ; yet how fre- 
quently do we hear from the dealers in superla- 
tives, of " most admirable, super-excellent, and 

* Philip, Earl of Chesterfield, whose celebrated Letters to his 
Son entitle him to this appellation. Petronius Arbiter was the 
minister of pleasures to the emperor Nero, but was put to death 
by that tyrant, whom he lampooned. It is said of him, that, 
though a voluptuary, he had a great talent for public affairs ; and 
that he was not so dissipated as those whom he corrupted. — Ed. 



ON DEFINITIONS. 163 

quite perfect " people, who, to plain persons, 
not bred in the school of exaggeration, would 
appear mere common characters, not rising 
above the level of mediocrity ! By this negli- 
gence in the application of words, we shall be 
as much misled by these trope and figure 
ladies, when they degrade as when they pane- 
gyrize ; for, to a plain and sober judgment, a 
tradesman may not be " the most good-for- 
nothing fellow that ever existed," merely be- 
cause it was impossible for him to execute in 
an hour an order which required a week ; a 
lady may not be " the most hideous fright the 
world ever saw," though the make of her gown 
may have been obsolete for a month ; nor may 
one's young friend's father be " a monster of 
cruelty," though he may be a quiet gentleman, 
who does not choose to live at watering-places, 
but likes to have his daughter stay at home 
with him in the country. 

Of all the parts of speech the interjection is 
the most abundantly in use with the hyperboli- 
cal fair ones. Would it could be added, that 
these emphatical expletives (if I may make use 
of a contradictory term) were not sometimes 
tinctured with profaneness ! Though I am 
persuaded that idle habit is often more at the 
bottom of this deep offence than intended im- 
piety, yet there is scarcely any error of youth- 
ful talk which merits severer castio-ation. And 
a habit of exclamation should be rejected by 
polished people as vulgar, even if it were not 
abhorred as profane. 

The habit of exaggerating trifles, together 
with the grand female failing of excessive mu- 



164 ON DEFINITIONS. 

tual flattery, and elaborate general professions 
of fondness and attachment, is inconceivably 
cherished by the voluminous private correspon- 
dences in which some girls are indulged. In 
vindication of this practice, it is pleaded that a 
facility of style, and an easy turn of expression, 
are acquisitions to be derived from an early 
interchange of sentiments by letter-writing ; 
but even if it were so, these would be dearly 
purchased by the sacrifice of that truth and so- 
briety of sentiment, that correctness of lan- 
guage, and that ingenuous simplicity of charac- 
ter and manners, so lovely in female youth. 

Next to pernicious reading, imprudent and 
violent friendships are the most dangerous 
snares to this simplicity. And boundless cor- 
respondences with different confidants, whether 
they live in a distant province, or, as it often 
happens, in the same street, are the fuel which 
principally feeds this dangerous flame of youth- 
ful sentiment. In those correspondences, the 
young friends often encourage each other in 
the falsest notions of human life, and the most 
erroneous views of each other's character. 
Family affairs are divulged, and family faults 
aggravated. Vows of everlasting attachment 
and exclusive fondness are in a pretty just pro- 
portion bestowed on every friend alike. These 
epistles overflow with quotations from the most 
passionate of the dramatic poets ; and passages 
wrested from their natural meaning, and press- 
ed into the service of sentiment, are, with all 
the violence of misapplication, compelled to 
suit the case of the heroic transcriber. 

But antecedent to this epistolary period of 



ON DEFIxNITIOiNS. 165 

life, they should have been accustomed to the 
most scrupulous exactness in whatever they 
relate. They should maintain the most criti- 
cal accuracy in facts, in dates, in numbering, 
in describing ; in short, in whatever pertains, 
either directly or indirectly, closely or remotely, 
to the great fundamental principle, Truth. It 
is so very difficult for persons of great liveli- 
ness to restrain themselves within the sober 
limits of strict veracity, either in their asser- 
tions or narrations, especially when a little un- 
due indulgence of fancy is apt to procure for 
them the praise of genius and spirit, that this 
restraint is one of the earliest principles which 
should be worked into the youthful mind. 

The conversation of young females is also in 
danger of being overloaded with epithets. As 
in the warm season of youth hardly any thing 
is seen in the true point of vision, so hardly 
any thing is named in naked simplicity ; and 
the very sensibility of the feelings is partly a 
cause of the extravagance of the expression. 
But here, as in other points, the sacred writers, 
particularly of the. New Testament, present us 
with the purest models ; and its natural and 
unlabored style of expression is perhaps not the 
meanest evidence of the truth of the Gospel. 
There is, throughout the whole narratives, no 
overcharged character, no elaborate description, 
nothing studiously emphatical, as if truth of 
itself were weak, and wanted to be helped out. 
There is little panegyric, and less invective ; 
none but on great, and awful, and justifiable 
occasions. The authors record their own faults 
with the same honesty as if they were the faults 
15 



166 ON DEFINITIONS. 

of other men, and the faults of other men with 
as little amplification as if they were their own. 
There is perhaps no book in which adjectives 
are so sparingly used. A modest statement of 
the fact, with no coloring and little comment, 
with little emphasis and no varnish, is the ex- 
ample held out to us for correcting the exuber- 
ances of passion and of language, by that di- 
vine volume which furnishes us with the still 
more important rule of faith and standard of 
practice. Nor is the truth lowered by any 
feebleness, nor is the spirit diluted, nor the im- 
pression weakened, by this soberness and mod- 
eration ; for with all this plainness there is so 
much force, with all this simplicity there is so 
much energy, that a few slight touches and 
artless strokes of Scripture characters convey a 
stronger outline of the person delineated, than 
is sometimes given by the most elaborate and 
finished portrait of more artificial historians. 

If it be objected to this remark, that many 
parts of the sacred writings abound in a lofty, 
figurative, and even hyperbolical style, this ob- 
jection applies chiefly to the writings of the Old 
Testament, and to the prophetical and poetical 
parts of that. But the metaphorical and florid 
style of those writings is distinct from the inac- 
curate and overstrained expression we have 
been censuring; for that only is inaccuracy 
which leads to a false and inadequate concep- 
tion in the reader or hearer. The lofty style 
of the Eastern, and of other heroic poetry, does 
not so mislead ; for the metaphor is understood 
to be a metaphor, and the imagery is under- 
stood to be ornamental. The style of the 



ON DEFINITIONS. 167 

scriptures of the Old Testament is not, it is 
true, plain in opposition to figurative ; nor sim- 
ple, in opposition to florid ; but it is plain and 
simple in the best sense, as opposed to false 
principles and false taste : it raises no wrong 
idea ; it gives an exact impression of the thing 
it means to convey ; and its very tropes and 
figures, though bold, are never unnatural or 
affected : when it embellishes, it does not mis- 
lead ; even when it exasperates, it does not 
misrepresent : if it be hyperbolical, it is so 
either in compliance with the genius of Orien- 
tal language, or in compliance with contempo- 
rary customs, or because the subject is one 
which will be most forcibly impressed by a 
strong figure. The loftiness of the expression 
deducts nothing from the weight of the circum- 
stance ; the imagery animates the reader, with- 
out misleading him ; the boldest illustration, 
while it dilates his conception of the subject, 
detracts nothing from its exactness ; and the 
divine Spirit, instead of suffering truth to be 
injured by the opulence of figures, contrives to 
make them fresh and varied avenues to the 
heart and the understanding 



168 ANALOGY OF RELIGION 



CHAPTER, XI. 

On religion. — The necessity and duty of early instruction, shown 
by analogy with human learning. 

It has been the fashion of our late innovaters 
in philosophy, who have written some of the most 
brilliant and popular treatises on education, to 
decry the practice of early instilling religious 
knowledge into the minds of children. In vin- 
dication of this opinion, it has been alleged, 
that it is of the utmost importance to the cause 
of truth, that the mind of man should be kept 
free from prepossessions ; and, in particular, 
that every one should be left to form such judg- 
ment on religious subjects as may seem best to 
his own reason in maturer years.* 

This sentiment has received some counte- 
nance from those better characters who have 
wished, on the fairest principle, to encourage 
free inquiry in religion ; but it has been pushed 
to the blameable excess here censured, chiefly 
by the new philosophers, who, while they pro- 
fess only an ingenuous zeal for truth, are in 

* Rousseau directs, that from the hour of birth to the age of 
twelve, the education of the child should be purely negative. 
Following this advice, one of our popular Encyclopedias, pub- 
lished a little time before this work, gave a system of education, 
in which the writer says, '■ The render will donbtiess he sur- 
prised that vve have attended our pupil throughout the whole of 
the first age of life, without wver .speaking to him of religion. 
He hardly knows fit fifteen, whether or not he has a soul, and per- 
haps it will not be time to inform him ot it when he is eighteen; 
if he learns it too soon, he runs a risk of not knowing it at 
all."— Ed. 



WITH HUMAN LEARNING. 169 

fact slyly endeavoring to destroy Christianity 
itself, by discountenancing, under the plausible 
pretence of free inquiry, all attention whatever 
to the religious education of our youth. 

It is undoubtedly our duty, while we are in- 
stilling principles into the tender mind, to take 
peculiar care that those principles be sound and 
just ; that the religion we teach be the religion 
of the Bible, and not the inventions of human 
error or superstition ; that the principles we 
infuse into others, be such as we ourselves 
have well scrutinized, and not the result of our 
credulity or bigotry ; nor the mere hereditary, 
unexamined prejudices of our own undiscern- 
ing childhood. It may also be granted, that it 
is the duty of every parent to inform the youth, 
that when his faculties shall have so unfolded 
themselves, as to enable him to examine for 
himself those principles which the parent is 
now instilling, it will be his duty so to examine 
them. 

But after making these concessions, I would 
most seriously insist, that there are certain 
leading and fundamental truths ; that there are 
certain sentiments on the side of Christianity, 
as well as of virtue and benevolence, in favor of 
which every child ought to be prepossessed ; 
and may it not be also added, that to expect to 
keep the mind void of all prepossession, even 
upon any subject, appears to be altogether a 
vain and impracticable attempt ? an attempt, 
the very suggestion of which argues much ig- 
norance of human nature. 

Let it be observed here, that we are not com- 
bating the infidel ; that we are not producing 
15* 



170 ANALOGY OF RELIGION 

evidences and arguments in favor of the truth 
of Christianity, or trying to win over the assent 
of the reader to that which he disputes; but 
that we are taking it for granted, not only that 
Christianity is true, but that we are addressing 
those who believe it to be true ; an assumption 
which has been made throughout this work. 
Assuming, therefore, that there are religious 
principles which are true, and which ought to 
be communicated in the most effectual man- 
ner, the next question which arises seems to be, 
at what age and in what manner these ought to 
be inculcated. That it ought to be at an early 
period, we have the command of Christ ; who 
encouragingly said, in answer to those who 
would have repelled their approach, " Suffer 
little children to come unto me." 

But, here conceding, for the sake of aro-u- 
ment, what yet cannot be conceded, that some 
good reasons may be brought in favor of delay ; 
allowing that such impressions as are commu- 
nicated early, may not be very deep ; allowing 
them even to become totally effaced by the sub- 
sequent corruptions of the heart and of the 
world ; still I would illustrate the importance 
of early infusing religious knowledge, by an 
allusion drawn from the power of early habit in 
human learning. Put the case, for instance, 
of a person who was betimes initiated in the 
rudiments of classical studies. Suppose him, 
after quitting school, to have fallen, either by a 
course of idleness or of vulgar pursuits, into a 
total neglect of study. Should this person, at 
any future period, happen to be called to some 
profession, which should oblige him, as we say, 



WITH HUMAN LEARNING. 171 

to rub up his Greek and Latin ; his memory 
still retaining the unobliterated though faint 
traces of his early pursuits, he will be able to 
recover his neglected learning with less diffi- 
culty than he could now begin to learn ; for he 
is not again obliged to set out with studying the 
simple elements ; they come back on being 
pursued ; they are found, on being searched 
for ; the decayed images assume shape, and 
strength, and color ; he has in his mind first 
principles, to which to recur ; the rules of gram- 
mar, which he has allowed himself to violate, 
he has not, however, forgotten ; he will recall 
neglected ideas, he will resume slighted habits, 
far more easily than he could now begin to ac- 
quire new ones. I appeal to clergymen who 
are called to attend the dying beds of such as 
have been bred in gross and stupid ignorance 
of religion, for the justness of this comparison. 
Do they not find these unhappy people have no 
ideas in common with them ? that they possess, 
therefore, no intelligible medium by which to 
make themselves understood ? that the persons 
to whom they are addressing themselves have no 
first principles to which they can be referred? 
that they are ignorant, not only of the science, 
but the language of Christianity 1 

But, at worst, whatever be the event of a 
pious education to the child, though in general 
we are encouraged, from the tenor of Scripture 
and the course of experience, to hope that the 
event will be favorable, and that " when be is 
old he will not depart from it ;" is it nothing 
for the parent to have acquitted himself of this 
prime duty ? Is it nothing to him that he has 



172 ANALOGY OF RELIGION 

obeyed the plain command of " training his 
child in the way he should go?" And will not 
the parent who so acquits himself, with better 
reason and more lively hope, supplicate the Fa- 
ther of mercies for the reclaiming of a prodigal 
who has wandered out of that right path in 
which he has set him forward, than for the con- 
version of a neglected creature, to whose feet 
the Gospel had never been offered as a light 1 
And how different will be the dying reflections 
even of that parent whose earnest endeavors 
have been unhappily defeated by the subsequent 
and voluntary perversion of his child, from his 
who will reasonably aggravate his pangs, by 
transferring the sins of his neglected child to 
the number of his own transgressions! 

And to such well-intentioned but ill-judgino- 
parents as really wish their children to be here- 
after pious, but erroneously withhold instruc- 
tion till the more advanced period prescribed 
by the great master of splendid paradoxes* shall 
arrive ; who can assure them, that while they 
are withholding the good seed, the great and 
ever vigilant enemy, who assiduously seizes 
hold on every opportunity which we slight, and 
cultivates every advantage which we neglect 
may not be stocking the fallow ground with 
tares ? Nay, who, in this fluctuating scene of 
things, can be assured, even if this were not 
certainly to be the case, that to them the prom- 
ised period ever shall arrive at all ? Who shall 
ascertain to them, that their now neglected 
child shall certainly live to receive the delayed 

* Rousseau. 



WITH HUMAN LEARNING. 173 

instruction ? Who can assure them that they 
themselves will live to communicate it? 

It is almost needless to observe, that parents 
who are indifferent about religion, much more 
those who treat it with scorn, are not likely to 
be anxious on this subject; it is therefore the 
attention of religious parents which is here 
chiefly called upon ; and the more so, as there 
seems, on this point, an unaccountable negli- 
gence in many of these, whether it arise from 
indolence, false principles, or whatever other 
motive. 

But independent of knowledge, it is some- 
thing, nay, let philosophers say what they will, 
it is much, to give youth prepossessions in favor 
of religion, to secure their prejudices on its side 
before you turn them adrift into the world ; a 
world in which, before they can be completely 
armed with arguments and reasons, they will be 
assailed by numbers whose prepossessions and 
prejudices, far more than their arguments and 
reasons, attach them to the other side. Why 
should not the Christian youth furnish himself 
in the best cause with the same natural armor 
which the enemies of religion wear in the worst 1 
It is certain that to set out in life with senti- 
ments in favor of the religion of our country is 
no more an error or a weakness, than to grow 
up with a fondness for our country itself. If 
the love of our country be judged a fair princi- 
ple, surely a Christian, who is " a citizen of no 
mean city," may lawfully have his attachments 
too. If patriotism be an honest prejudice, Chris- 
tianity is not a servile one. Nay, let us teach 
the youth to hug his prejudices, to glory in his 



174 ANALOGY OF RELIGION 

prepossessions, rather than to acquire that ver- 
satile and accommodating citizenship of the 
world, by which he may be an infidel in Paris, 
a papist at Rome, and a mussulman at Cairo. 

Let me not be supposed so to elevate politics, 
or so to depress religion, as to make any com- 
parison of the value of the one with the other, 
when I observe, that between the true British 
patriot and the true Christian, there will be this 
common resemblance; the more deeply each of 
them inquires, the more will he be confirmed in 
his respective attachment — the one to his coun- 
try, the other to his religion. I speak with 
reverence of the immeasurable distance ; but 
the more the one presses on the firm arch of 
our constitution, and the other on that of Chris- 
tianity, the stronger he will find them both. 
Each challenges scrutiny ; each has nothing to 
dread but from shallow politicians and shallow 
philosophers ; in each, intimate knowledge jus- 
tifies prepossession ; in each, investigation con- 
confirms attachment. 

If we divide the human being into three com- 
ponent parls, the bodily, the intellectual, and 
the spiritual, is it not reasonable that a portion 
of care and attention be assigned to each, in 
some degree adequate to its importance ? Should 
I venture to say a due portion, a portion adapted 
to the real comparative value of each, would not 
that condemn, in one word, the whole system 
of modern education? The rational and intel- 
lectual part being avowedly more valuable than 
the bodily, while the spiritual and immortal part 
exceeds even the intellectual still more than that 
surpasses what is corporeal ; is it acting ac- 



WITH HUMAN LEARNING. 175 

cording to the common rules of proportion ; is 
it acting on the principles of distributive jus- 
tice : is it acting with that good sense and right 
judgment with which the ordinary business of 
this world is usually transacted, to give the 
larger proportion of time and care to that which 
is worth the least 1 Is it fair, that what relates 
to the body and the organs of the body, I mean 
those accomplishments which address them- 
selves to the eye and the ear, should occupy al- 
most the whole thoughts ; while the intellectual 
part should be robbed of its due proportion, and 
the spiritual part should have almost no propor- 
tion at all 1 Is not this preparing your chil- 
dren for an awful disappointment in the tre- 
mendous day when they shall be stripped of 
that body, of those senses and organs, which 
have been made almost the sole objects of their 
attention, and shall feel themselves left in pos- 
session of nothing but that spiritual part which 
in education was scarcely taken into the ac- 
count of their existence? 

Surely it should be thought a reasonable 
compromise (and I am, in fact, undervaluing 
the object for the importance of which I plead) 
to sucrfrest, that at least two thirds of that time 
which is now usurped by externals, should be 
restored to the rightful owners, the understand- 
ing and the heart ; and that the acquisition of 
religious knowledge in early youth should at 
least be no less an object of sedulous attention 
than the cultivation of human learning, or of 
outward embellishments. It is also not unrea- 
sonable to suggest, that we should in Chris- 
tianity, as in arts, sciences, or languages, begin 



176 ANALOGY OF RELIGION 

with the beginning, set out with the simple ele- 
ments, and thus " go on unto perfection." 

Why, in teaching to draw, do you begin with 
straight lines and curves, till by gentle steps 
the knowledge of outline and proportion be ob- 
tained, and your picture be completed ; never 
losing sight, however, of the elementary lines 
and curves? Why, in music, do you set out 
with the simple notes, and pursue the acquisi- 
tion through all its progress, still in every stage 
recurring to the notes^? Why, in the science 
of numbers, do you invent the simplest methods 
of conveying just ideas of computation, still re- 
ferring to the tables which involve the funda- 
mental rules? Why, in the science of quanti- 
ty, do men introduce the pupil at first to the 
plainest diagrams, and clear up one difficulty 
before they allow another to appear 1 Why, in 
teaching languages to the youth, do you sedu- 
lously infuse into his mind the rudiments of 
syntax? Why, in parsing, is he led to refer 
every word to its part of speech, to resolve every 
sentence into its elements, to reduce every term 
to its original, and from the first case of nouns, 
and the first tense of verbs, to explain their for- 
mation, changes, and dependencies, till the 
principles of language become so grounded, 
that, by continually recurring to the rules, 
speaking and writing correctly are fixed into a 
habit ? Why all this, but because you uniform- 
ly wish him to be grounded in each of his ac- 
quirements? why, but because you are persuad- 
ed that a slight, and slovenly, and superficial, 
and irregular way of instruction will never train 
him to excellence in any thing ? 



WITH HUMAN LEARNING. 177 

Do young persons, then, become musicians, 
and painters, and linguists, and mathematicians, 
by early study and regular labor ; and shall 
they become Christians by accident? or rather, 
is not this acting on that very principle of Dog- 
berry,* at which you probably have often laugh- 
ed ? Is it not supposing that religion, like 
" reading and writing, comes by nature V s Shall 
all those accomplishments, " which perish in 
the using," be so assiduously, so systematically 
taught. 1 Shall all those habits, which are lim- 
ited to the things of this world, be so carefully 
formed, so persisted in, as to be interwoven 
with our very make, so as to become, as it were, 
a part of ourselves ; and shall that knowledge 
which is to make us " wise unto salvation" be 
picked up at random, cursorily, or, perhaps, not 
picked up at all ? Shall that difficult divine 
science which requires " line upon line, and 
precept upon precept," here a little and there a 
little; that knowledge which parents, even un- 
der a darker dispensation, were required " to 
teach their children diligently , and to talk of it 
when they sat in their house, and when they 
walked by the way, and when they lay down, 
and when they rose up ;" shall this knowledge 
be by Christian parents omitted or deferred, or 
taught slightly ; or be superseded by things of 
comparatively little worth ? 

Shall the lively period of youth, the soft and 
impressible season when lasting habits are form- 
ed, when the seal cuts deep into the yielding 
wax, and the impression is more likely to be 

* See Shakspeare's " Much Ado about Nothing." 

16 



178 ANALOGS OF RELIGION 

clear, and sharp, and strong, and lasting; shall 
this warm and favorable season be suffered to 
slide by, without being turned to the great pur- 
pose for which not only youth, but life, and 
breath, and being were bestowed ? Shall not 
that " faith, without which it is impossible to 
please God ;" shall not that " holiness, without 
which no man can see the Lord ;" shall not 
that knowledge which is the foundation of faith 
and practice ; shall not that charity, without 
which all knowledge is " sounding brass and a 
tinkling cymbal," be impressed, be inculcated, 
be enforced, as early, as constantly, as funda- 
mentally, with the same earnest pushing on to 
continual progress, with the same constant ref- 
erence to first principles, as are used in the case 
of those arts which merely adorn human life 1 
Shall we not seize the happy period when the 
memory is strong, the mind and all its powers 
vigorous and active, the imagination busv and 
all alive; the heart flexible, the temper ductile, 
the conscience tender, curiosity awake, fear 
powerful, hope eager, love ardent ; shall we not 
seize this period for inculcating that knowl- 
edge, and impressing those principles, which 
are to form the character, and fix the destina- 
tion for eternity 1 

I would now address myself to another, and 
a still more dilatory class, who are for procrasti- 
nating all concern about religion till they are 
driven to it by actual distress, and who do not 
think of praying till they are perishing, like the 
sailor who said, " he thought it was always time 
enough to begin to pray when the storm began." 
Of these I would ask, Shall we, with an unac- 



WITH HUMAN LEARNING. 179 

countable deliberation, defer our anxiety about 
religion till the busy man and the dissipated 
woman are become so immersed in the cares of 
life, or so entangled in its pleasures, that they 
will have little heart or spirit to embrace a new 
principle? a principle whose precise object it 
will be to condemn that very life in which they 
have already embarked ; nay, to condemn al- 
most all that thev have been doing and think- 
ing ever since they first began to act or think ! 
Shall we, I say, begin now ? or shall we suffer 
those instructions, to receive which, requires 
all the concentrated powers of a strong and 
healthy mind, to be put off till the day of excru- 
ciating pain, till the period of debility and stu- 
pefaction ? Shall we wait for that season, as if 
it were the most favorable for religious acquisi- 
tions, when the senses shall have been palled 
by excessive gratification, when the eye shall 
be tired with seeing, and the ear with hearing? 
Shall we, when the whole man is breaking up 
by disease or decay, expect that the dim appre- 
hension will discern a new science, or the ob- 
tuse feelings delight themselves with a new 
pleasure ? a pleasure, too, not only incompati- 
ble with many of the hitherto indulged pleas- 
ures, but one which carries with it a strong in- 
timation that those pleasures terminate in the 
death of the soul. 

But not to lose sight of the important analogy 
on which we have already dwelt so much, — 
how preposterous would it seem to you to hear 
any one propose to an illiterate dying man, to 
set about learning even the plainest and easiest 
rudiments of any new art ; to study the musical 



180 ANALOGY OF RELIGION 

notes ; to conjugate a verb ; to learn, not the 
first problem in Euclid, but even the numeration 
table ? and yet you do not think it absurd to 
postpone religious instruction, on principles 
which, if admitted at all, must terminate either 
in ignorance, or in your proposing too late to a 
dying man to begin to learn the totally un- 
known scheme of Christianity. You do not 
think it impossible that he should be brought to 
listen to the " voice of this charmer," when he 
can no longer listen to " the voice of singing 
men and singing women." You do not think 
it unreasonable that immortal beings should de- 
lay to devote their days to Heaven, till they 
have " no pleasure in them" themselves. You 
will not bring them to offer up the first-fruits of 
their lips, and hearts, and lives, to their Maker, 
because you peisuade yourselves that he, who 
has called himself a " jealous God," may, how- 
ever, be contented hereafter with the wretched 
sacrifice of decayed appetites, and the worthless 
leavings of almost extinguished affections. 

We can scarcely believe, even with all the 
melancholy procrastination we see around us, 
that there is any one, except he be a decided 
infidel, who does not consider religion as at 
least a good reversionary thing ; as an object 
which ought always to occupy a little remote 
corner of his map of life; the study of which, 
though it is always to be postponed, is, however, 
not to be finally rejected ; which, though it can- 
not conveniently come into his present scheme 
of life, it is intended somehow or other to take 
up before death. This awful deception, this 
defect in the intellectual vision, arises, partly 



WITH HUMAN LEARNING. 181 

from the bulk which the objects of time and 
sense acquire in our eyes by their nearness ; 
while the invisible realities of eternity are but 
faintly discerned by a feeble faith, through a 
dim and distant medium. It arises, also, partly 
from a totally false idea of the nature of Chris- 
tianity, from a fatai fancy that we can repent at 
any future period, and that, as amendment is a 
thing which will always be in our own power, 
it will be time enough to think of reforming our 
life, when we should think only of closing it. 

But, depend upon it, that a heart long hard- 
ened, I do not mean by gross vices merely, but 
by a fondness for the world, by an habitual and 
excessive indulgence in the pleasures of sense, 
will by no means be in a favorable state to ad- 
mit the light of divine truth, or to receive the 
impressions of divine grace. God, indeed, some- 
times shows us, by an act of his sovereignty, 
that this wonderful change, the conversion of 
a sinner's heart, may be produced without the 
intervention of human means, to show that the 
work is His, But as this is not the way in 
which the Almighty usually deals with his crea- 
tures, it would be nearly as preposterous for 
men to act on this presumption, and sin on in 
hopes of a miraculous conversion, as it would 
be to take no means for the preservation of their 
lives, because Jesus Christ raised Lazarus from 
the dead. 



16* 



182 OF THE MANNER OF 



CHAPTER XII. 

On the manner of instructing young persons in religion. — General 
remarks on the genius of Christianity. 

I would now, with great deference, address 
those respectable characters who are really con- 
cerned about the best interests of their children ; 
those to whom Christianity is indeed an impor- 
tant consideration, but whose habits of life have 
hitherto hindered them from giving it its due 
degree in the scale of education. 

Begin, then, with considering that religion is 
part, and the most prominent part, in your sys- 
tem of instruction. Do not communicate its 
principles in a random, desultory way; nor 
scantily stint this business to only such scraps 
and remnants of time as may be casually picked 
up from the gleanings of other acquirements. 
" Will you bring to God for a sacrifice that 
which costs you nothing ?" Let the best part 
of the day, which with most people is the earli- 
est part, be steadily and invariably dedicated to 
this work by your children, before they are tired 
with their other studies, while the intellect is 
clear, the spirits light, and the attention sharp 
and un fatigued. 

Confine not your instructions to mere verbal 
rituals and dry systems ; but communicate them 
in a way which shall interest their feelings, by 
lively images, and by a warm practical applica- 
tion of what they read to their own hearts and 
circumstances. If you do not study the great, 



INSTRUCTING IN RELIGION. 183 

but too much slighted art of fixing, of com- 
manding, of chaining the attention, you may 
throw away much time and labor, with little 
other effect than that of disgusting your pupil 
and wearying yourself. There seems to be no 
good reason, that, while every other thing is to 
be made amusing, religion alone must be dry 
and uninviting. Do not fancy that a thing is 
good merely because it is dull. Why should 
not the most entertaining powers of the human 
mind be supremely consecrated to that subject 
which is most worthy of their full exercise ? 
The misfortune is, that religious learning is too 
often rather considered as an act of the memory 
than of the heart and affections ; as a dry duty, 
rather than a lively pleasure. The manner in 
which it is taught differs as much from their 
other learning as punishment from recreation. 
Children are turned over to the dull work of 
getting by rote, as a task, that which they should 
get from example, from animated conversation, 
from lively discussion, in which the pupil should 
learn to bear a part, instead of being merely a 
passive hearer. Teach them rather, as their 
blessed Saviour taught, by interesting parables, 
which, while they corrected the heart, left some 
exercise for the ingenuity in the solution, and 
for the feelings in their application. Teach as 
He taught, by seizing on surrounding objects, 
passing events, local circumstances, peculiar 
characters, apt allusions, just analogy, appropri- 
ate illustration. Call in all creation, animate 
and inanimate, to your aid, and accustom your 
young audience to 

Find tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. 



184 OF THE MANNER OF 

Even when the nature of your subject makes it 
necessary for you to be more plain and didactic, 
do not fail frequently to enliven these less en- 
gaging parts of your discourse with some inci- 
dental imagery, which will captivate the fancy ; 
with some affecting story, with which it shall 
be associated in the memory. Relieve what 
would otherwise be too dry and perceptive, with 
some striking exemplification in point, some 
touching instance to be imitated, some awful 
warning to be avoided ; something which shall 
illustrate your instruction, which shall realize 
your position ; which shall imbody your idea, and 
give shape and form, color and life, to your pre- 
cept. , Endeavor unremittingly to connect the 
reader with the subject, by making her feel that 
what you teach is neither an abstract truth, nor a 
thing of mere general information, but that it is a 
business in which she herself is individually and 
immediately concerned ; in which not only her 
eternal salvation, but her present happiness is 
involved. Do, according to your measure of 
ability, what the Holy Spirit which indited the 
Scriptures has done, always take the sensibility 
of the learner into your account of the faculties 
which are to be worked upon. " For the doc- 
trines of the Bible," as the profound and en- 
lightened Bacon observes, " are not proposed to 
us in a naked logical form, but arrayed in the 
most beautiful and striking colors which crea- 
tion affords." By those affecting illustrations 
used by Him " who knew what was in man," 
and therefore best knew how to address him, it 
was, that the unlettered audiences of Christ and 



INSTRUCTING IN RELIGION. 185 

his apostles were enabled both to comprehend 
and to relish doctrines, which would not readi- 
ly have made their way to their understandings, 
had they not first touched their hearts ; and 
which would have found access to neither the 
one nor the other, had they been delivered in 
dry scholastic disquisitions. Now, those audi- 
ences not being learned, may be supposed to 
have been nearly in the state of children, as to 
their receptive faculties, and to have required 
nearly the same sort of instruction ; that is, 
they were more capable of being moved with 
what was simple, and touching, and lively, than 
what was elaborate, abstruse, and unaffecting. 
Heaven and earth were made to furnish their 
contributions, when man was to be taught that 
science which was to make him wise unto sal- 
vation. Something which might enforce or il- 
lustrate was borrowed from every element. The 
appearances of the sky, the storms of the ocean, 
the birds of the air, the beasts of the field, the 
fruits of the earth, the seed and the harvest, the 
labors of the husbandman, the traffic of the 
merchant, the seasons of the year, — all were 
laid hold of in turn. And the most important 
moral instruction, or religious truth, was de- 
duced from some recent occurrence, some natu- 
ral appearance, some ordinary fact. 

If that be the purest eloquence which most 
persuades, and which comes home to the heart 
with the fullest evidence and the most irresisti- 
ble force, then no eloquence is so powerful as 
that of Scripture ; and an intelligent Christian 
teacher will be admonished by the mode of 
Scripture itself, how to communicate its truths 



186 OF THE MANNER OF 

with life and spirit ; " while he is musing, the 
fire burns ;" that fire which will preserve him 
from an insipid and freezing mode of instruc- 
tion. He will moreover, as was said above, al- 
ways carefully keep up a quick sense of the per- 
sonal interest the pupil has in every religious 
instruction which is impressed upon him. He 
will teach, as Paul prayed, " with the spirit, and 
with the understanding also;" and imitating 
this great model, he will necessarily avoid the 
opposite faults of two different sorts of instruc- 
ted ; for while some of our divines of the high- 
er class have been too apt to preach as if man- 
kind had only intellect, and the lower and more 
popular sort, as if they had only passions, let 
him borrow what, is good from both, and ad- 
dress his pupils as being compounded of both 
understanding and affections.* 

Fancy not that the Bible is too difficult and 
intricate to be presented in its own naked form, 
and that it puzzles and bewilders the youthful 
understanding. In all needful and indispensa- 
ble points of knowledge, the darkness of Scrip- 
ture, as a great Christian philosopher! has ob- 
served, " is but a partial darkness, like that of 
Egypt, which benighted only the enemies of 

* The zeal and diligence with which the Bishop of London's 
weekly lectures have been attended by persons of all ranks and 
descriptions, but more especially by that class to whom this lit- 
tle work is addressed, is a very promising circumstance for the 
age. And while we consider with pleasure the advantages pecu- 
liarly to be derived by the young from so interesting and ani- 
mated an exposition of the jGospel, we are further led to rejoice 
at the countenance given by such high authority to the revival of 
that excellent, but too much neglected practice of lectures. — [The 
lectures of Bishop Porte us were delivered during the season of 
Lent in the parish church of St. James's, and, being a novelty , 
attracted crowds of fashionable hearers. — Ed.] 

t Mr. Boyle. 



INSTRUCTING IN RELIGION. 187 

God, while it left his children in clear day." It 
is not pretended that the Bible will find in the 
young reader clear views of God and of Christ, 
of the soul and eternity, but that it will give 
them. And if it be really the appropriate char- 
acter of Scripture, as it tells us itself that it is, 
" to enlighten the eyes of the blind," and " to 
make wise the simple" then it is as well calcu- 
lated for the youthful and uninformed, as for 
any other class ; and as it was never expected 
that the greater part of Christians should be 
learned, so is learning, though of inestimable 
value in a teacher of theology, no essential 
qualification for a common Christian ; for which 
reason Scripture truths are expressed with that 
clear and simple evidence adapted to the kind 
of assent which they require ; an assent materi- 
ally different from that sort of demonstration 
which a mathematical theorem demands. He 
who could bring an unprejudiced heart and an 
unperverted will, would bring to the Scriptures 
the best qualification for understanding and re- 
ceiving them. And though thev contain thino-s 
which the pupil cannot comprehend (as what 
ancient poet, historian, or orator does not ?) the 
teacher may address to him the words which 
Christ addressed to Peter, "What I do, thou 
knovvest not now, but thou shalt know here- 
after." 

Histories of the Bible, and commentaries on 
the Bible, for the use of children, though valua- 
ble in their way, should never be used as sub- 
stitutes for the Bible itself. For historical or 
geographical information, for calling the atten- 
tion to events and characters, they are very use- 



188 OF THE MANNER OF 

fill. But Scripture truths are best conveyed in 
its own sublime and simple phraseology ; its 
doctrines are best understood in its own appro- 
priate language ; its precepts are best retained 
in their own simple form. Paraphrase, in pro- 
fessing to explain, often dilutes ; while the terse- 
ness and brevity of Scripture composition fills 
the mind, touches the heart, and fastens on the 
memory. While I would cause them to " read" 
the commentary for the improvement of the un- 
derstanding, they should " mark, learn, and in- 
wardly digest" the Bible, for the comfort and 
edification of the heart. 

Young people who have been taugh. religion 
in a formal and superficial way, who have had 
all its drudgeries and none of its pleasures, will 
probably have acquired so little relish for it, as 
to consider the continued prosecution of their 
religious studies as a badge of their tutelage, as 
a mark that they are still under subjection ; 
and will look forward with impatience to the 
hour of their emancipation from the lectures on 
Christianity, as the era of their promised liber- 
ty ; the epocha of independence. They will 
long for the period when its lessons shall cease 
to be delivered : will conclude that, having 
once attained such an age, and arrived at. the 
required proficiency, the object will be accom- 
plished, and the labor at an end. But let not 
your children " so learn Christ." Apprize 
them that no specific day will ever arrive, on 
which they shall say, I have attained ; but in- 
form them that every acquisition must be fol- 
lowed up ; knowledge must be increased ; pre- 
judices subdued ; good habits rooted ; evil ones 



INSTRUCTING IN RELIGION. 189 

eradicated ; amiable dispositions strengthened ; 
right principles confirmed ; till, going on from 
light to lio-ht, and from strength to strength, 
they come " to the measure of the stature of the 
fulness of Christ." 

But though serious instruction will not only 
be uninteresting, but irksome, if conveyed to 
youth in a cold, didactic way, yet if their affec- 
tions be suitably engaged, while their under- 
standings are kept in exercise, their hearts, so 
far from necessarily revolting, as some insist, 
will often receive the most solemn truths with 
alacrity. It is, as we have repeated, the man- 
ner which revolts them, and not the thing. Nor 
will they, as some assert, necessarily dislike the 
teacher, because the truths taught are of the 
most awful and solemn kind. It has happened 
to the writer to be a frequent witness of the 
gratitude and affection expressed by young per- 
sons to those who had sedulously and seriously 
instructed them in religious knowledge ; an af- 
fection as lively, a gratitude as warm, as could 
have been excited by any indulgence to their 
persons, or any gratification of a worldly nature. 

As it is notorious that men of wit and spright- 
ly fancy have been the most formidable enemies 
to Christianity ; while men, in whom those tal- 
ents have been consecrated to God, have been 
some of her most useful champions, taking par- 
ticular care to press that ardent and ever-active 
power, the imagination, into the service of reli- 
gion. This bright and busy faculty will be 
leading its possessor into perpetual peril, and is 
an enemy of peculiar potency till it come to be 
employed in the cause of God. It is a lion, 
17 



1 90 ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 

which though worldly prudence indeed may 
chain so as to prevent outward mischief, yet the 
malignity remains within ; but when sanctified 
by Christianity, the imagination is a lion tamed; 
you have all the benefit of its strength and its 
activity, divested of its mischief. God never 
bestowed that noble but restless faculty, with- 
out intending it to be an instrument of his own 
glory; though it has been too often set up in 
rebellion against him ; because, in its youthful 
stirrings, while all alive and full of action, it 
has not been seized upon to serve its rightful 
Sovereign, but was early enlisted, with little op- 
position, under the banners of the world, the 
flesh, and the devil. Religion is the only sub- 
ject in which, under the guidance of a severe 
and sober-minded prudence, this discursive fac- 
ulty can safely stretch its powers and expand its 
energies. But let it be remembered that it 
must be a sound and genuine Christianity which 
can alone so chastise and regulate the imagina- 
tion, as to restrain it from those errors and ex- 
cesses into which a false, a mistaken, an irregu- 
lar religion, has too often led its injudicious and 
ill-instructed professor. Some of the most fatal 
extremes into which a wild enthusiasm or a 
frightful superstition has plunged its unhappy 
votaries, have been owing to the want of a due 
direction, to the want of a strict and holy casti- 
gation, of this ever-working faculty. To secure 
imagination, therefore, on the safe side, and, if 
I may change the metaphor, to put it under the 
direction, of its true pilot in the stormy voyage 
of life, is like engaging those potent elements, 
the wind and tide, in your favor. 



ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 191 

In your communications with young people, 
take care to convince them that, as religion is 
not a business to be laid aside with the lesson, 
so neither is it a single branch of duty ; some 
detached thing, which, like the acquisition of 
an art or a language, is to be practised separate- 
ly, and to have its distinct periods and modes 
of operations. But let them understand, that 
common acts, by the spirit in which they are to 
be performed, are to be made acts of religion. 
Let them perceive that Christianity may be con- 
sidered as having something of that influence 
over the conduct, which external grace has over 
the manners ; for, as it is not the performance 
of some particular act which denominates any 
one to be graceful, grace being a spirit diffused 
through the whole system, which animates every 
sentiment, and informs every action ; as she 
who has true personal grace has it uniformly, 
and is not sometimes awkward and sometimes 
elegant ; does not sometimes lay it down, and 
sometimes take it up ; so religion is not an oc- 
casional act, but an indwelling principle, an in- 
wrought habit, a pervading and informing spirit, 
from which, indeed, every act derives all its 
life, and energy, and beauty. 

Give them clear views of the broad discrimi- 
nation between practical religion and worldly 
morality ; in short, between the virtues of Chris- 
tians and of pagans. Show them that no good 
qualities are genuine but such as flow from the 
religion of Christ. Let them learn that the 
virtues which the better sort of people, who yet 
are destitute of true Christianity, inculcate and 
practise, resemble those virtues which have the 



192 ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 

love of God for their motive, just as counterfeit 
coin resembles sterling gold ; they may have, 
it is true, certain points of resemblance with 
the others ; they may be bright and shining ; 
they have perhaps the image and the super- 
scription, but they ever want the true distin- 
guishing properties ; they want sterling value, 
purity, and weight. They may indeed pass 
current in the traffic of this world, but when 
brought to the touchstone, they will be found 
full of alloy ; when weighed in the balance of 
the sanctuary, " they will be found wanting;" 
they will not stand that final trial which is to 
separate " the precious from the vile ;" they 
will not abide the day " of His coming who is 
like a refiner's fire." 

One error into which even some good people 
are apt to fall, is that of endeavoring to deceive 
young minds by temporizing expedients. In 
order to allure them to become religious, they 
exhibit false, or faint, or inadequate views of 
Christianity ; and while they represent it as it 
really is, as a life of superior happiness and ad- 
vantage, they conceal its difficulties, and, like 
the Jesuitical Chinese missionaries, extenuate, 
or sink, or deny such parts of it as are least al- 
luring to human pride.* In attempting to dis- 
guise its principle, they destroy its efficacy. 
They deny the cross, instead of making it the 

* T'ne Jesuits who obtained permission to settle in China, have 
been charged with permitting their converts to pay divine honors 
to their ancestors, and with modifying the Christian tenets, to 
make them agree with the doctrines of Confucius. They did the 
same, and more grossly, among savages. One missionary, in 
America, in his zeal for the conversion of an Indian chief, told 
him that Christ was a great warrior, who had scalped numbers 
of his enemies '. — Ed. 



ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 193 

badge of a Christian. But, besides that the 
project fails with them as it did with the Jesuits, 
all fraud is bad in itself; and a pious fraud is a 
contradiction in terms, which ought to be buried 
in the rubbish of papal desolation. 

Instead of representing to the young Chris- 
tian, that it may be possible, by a prudent inge- 
nuity, at once to pursue, with equal ardor and 
success, worldly fame and eternal glory, would 
it not be more honest to tell him, fairly and un- 
ambiguously, that there are two distinct roads, 
between which there is a broad boundary line? 
that there are two contending and irreconcila- 
ble interests ? that he must forsake the one, if 
he would cleave to the other ? that " there are 
two masters," both of whom it is impossible to 
serve ? that there are two sorts of characters at 
eternal variance? that he must renounce the 
one if he is in earnest for the other ? that noth- 
ing short of absolute decision can make a con- 
firmed Christian? Point out the different sorts 
of promises annexed to these different sorts of 
characters. Confess, in the language of Christ, 
how the man of the world often obtains (and it 
is the natural course of human things) the re- 
compense he sedulously seeks. " Verily I say 
unto you, they have their reward." Explain 
the beatitudes on the other hand, and unfold 
what kind of specific reward is there individu- 
ally promised to its concomitant virtue. Show 
your pupil that to that " poverty of spirit" to 
which " the kingdom of heaven" is promised, it 
would be inconsistent to expect that the recom- 
pense of human commendation should be also 
attached ; that to that " purity of heart" to 
17* 



194 ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 

which the beatific vision is annexed, it would 
be unreasonable to suppose you can unite the 
praise of licentious wits, or the admiration of a 
catch-club. These will be bestowed on their 
appropriate and corresponding merits. Do not 
enlist them under false colors ; disappointment 
will produce desertion. Different sorts of re- 
wards are attached to different sorts of services ; 
and while you truly assert that religion's ways 
are " ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are 
peace," take care that you do not lead them to 
depend too exclusively on worldly happiness 
and earthly peace, for these make no part of 
the covenant ; they may be, and they often are, 
superadded, but they were never stipulated in 
the contract. 

But if, in order to attract, the young to a re- 
ligious course, you disingenuously conceal its 
difficulties, while you are justly enlarging upon 
its pleasures, you will tempt them to distrust 
the truth of Scripture itself. For what will they 
think, not only of a few detached texts, but of 
the genera] cast and color of the Gospel, when 
contrasted with your representation of it? When 
you are describing to them the inseparable hu- 
man advantages which will follow a religious 
course, what notion will they conceive of the 
" strait gate" and " narrow way" .? of the am- 
putation of a " right, hand" ? of the excision of 
a " right eye" ? of the other strong metaphors 
by which the Christian warfare is shadowed 
out? of " crucifying the flesh"? of " mortify- 
ing the old man" ? of " dying unto sin" ? of 
" overcoming the world" ? Do you not think 
their meek and compassionate Saviour, who 



ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 195 

died for your children, loved them as well as 
you love them 1 And if this were his language, 
ought it not to be yours 1 It is the language of 
true love ; of that love with which a merciful 
God loved the world, when he spared not his 
own Son. Do not fear to tell your children 
what he told his disciples, that " in the world 
they shall have tribulation ;" but teach them to 
rise superior to it, on Ms principle, by " over- 
coming the world." Do not try to conceal from 
them, that the life of a Christian is necessarily 
opposite to the life of the world ; and do not 
seek, by a vain attempt at accommodation, to 
reconcile that difference which Christ himself 
has pronounced to be irreconcilable. 

May it not be partly owing to the want of a 
due introduction to the knowledge of the real 
nature and spirit of religion, that so many young 
Christians, who set out in a fair and flourishing 
way, decline and wither when they come to 
perceive the requisitions of experimental Chris- 
tianity ? requisitions which they had not sus- 
pected of making any part of the plan ; and 
from which, when they afterwards discover 
them, they shrink back, as not prepared and 
hardened for the unexpected contest. 

People are no more to be cheated into reli- 
gion than into learning. The same spirit which 
influences your oath in a court of justice should 
influence your discourse in that court of equity 
— your family. Your children should be told 
the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the 
truth. It is unnecessary to add, that it must 
be done gradually and discreetly. We know 
whose example we have for postponing that 



196 ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 

which the mind is not yet prepared to receive : 
" I have many things yet to say to you, but ye can- 
not bear them now." Accustom them to reason 
by analogy. Explain to them that great world- 
ly attainments are never made without great 
sacrifices ; that the merchant cannot become 
rich without industry ; the statesman eminent 
without labor ; the scholar learned without 
study ; the hero renowned without danger : 
would it not, then, on human principles, be un- 
reasonable to think that the Christian alone 
should obtain a triumph without a warfare? 
the highest prize, with the lowest exertions ? 
an eternal crown, without a present cross? and 
that heaven is the only reward which the idle 
may reckon upon ? No ; though salvation " be 
the gift of God," yet it must be " worked out." 
Convince your young friends, however, that in 
this case the difficulty of the battle bears no 
proportion to the prize of the victory. In one 
respect, indeed, the point of resemblance be- 
tween worldly and Christian pursuits fails, and 
that most advantageously for the Christian ; for 
while, even by the most probable means, which 
are the union of talents with diligence, no hu- 
man prosperity can be insured to the worldly 
candidate ; while the most successful adventur- 
er may fail by the fault of another ; while the 
best concerted project of the statesman may be 
crushed, the bravest hero lose the battle, the 
brightest genius fail of getting bread ; and while, 
moreover, the pleasure arising even from suc- 
cess in these may be no sooner tasted than it is 
poisoned by a more prosperous rival ; — the per- 
severing Christian is safe and certain of obtain- 



ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 197 

ing his object : no misfortunes can defeat his 
hope ; no competition can endanger his suc- 
cess ; for, though another gain, he will not lose ; 
nav, the success of another, so far from diinin- 

•> 7 7 

ishing his gain, is an addition to it; the more 
he diffuses, the richer he grows ; his blessings 
are enlarged by communication ; and that mor- 
tal hour which cuts off forever the hopes of 
worldly men, crowns and consummates his. 

Beware, at tbe same time, of setting up any 
act of self denial or mortification as the procur- 
ing cause of salvation. This would be a pre- 
sumptuous project to purchase that eternal life 
which is declared to be the " free gift of God." 
This would be to send your children, not to the 
Gospel to learn their Christianity, but to the 
monks and ascetics of the middle ages ; it would 
be sending them to Peter the Hermit,* and the 
holy fathers of the desert, and not to Peter the 
apostle and his Divine Master. Mortification 
is not the price ; it is nothing more than the 
discipline of a soul of which sin is the disease, 
the diet prescribed by the great Physician. 
Without this guard, the young devout Christian 
would be led to fancy that abstinence, pilgrim- 
age, and penance might be adopted as the cheap 
substitute for the subdued desire, the resisted 
temptation, the conquered corruption, and the 
obedient will ; and would be almost in as much 
danger, on the one hand, of self-righteousness 
arising from austerities and mortification, as 

* It does not appear that Peter the Hermit was an ascetic, at 
least not of the same class with the monastics of the desert. He 
was a fanatic, and, by his zealous fervor, maddened half Europe 
to embark for the Holy Land.— Ed. 



198 ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 

she would be, on the other, from self-gratification 
in the indulgences of the world. And while 
you carefully impress on her the necessity of 
living a life of strict obedience if she would 
please God, do not neglect to remind her also, 
that a complete renunciation of her own per- 
formances as a ground of merit, purchasing the 
favor of God by their own intrinsic worth, is 
included in that obedience. 

It is of the last importance, in stamping on 
young minds a true impression of the genius of 
Christianity, to possess them with a conviction 
that it is the purity of the motive which not 
only gives worth and beauty, but which, in a 
Christian sense, gives life and soul to the best 
action ; nay, that while a right intention will 
be acknowledged and accepted at the final 
judgment, even without the act, the act itself 
will be disowned which wanted the basis of a 
pure design. " Thou didst well that it was in 
thy heart to build me a temple," said the Al- 
mighty to that monarch, whom yet he permit- 
ted not to build it. How many splendid actions 
will be rejected in the great day of retribution, 
to which statues and monuments have been 
raised on earth, while their almost deified au- 
thors shall be as much confounded at their own 
unexpected reprobation, as at the divine accept- 
ance of those "whose life the world counted 
madness." It is worthy of remark, that " De- 
part from me, 1 never knew you," is not the 
malediction denounced on the skeptic or the 
scoffer, on the profligate and the libertine, but 
on the high professor, on the unfruitful worker 
of " miracles," on the unsanctified utterer of 



ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 199 

" prophecies ;" for even acts of piety wanting 
the purifying principle, however they may daz- 
zle men, offend God. Cain sacrificed, Balaam 
prophesied, Rousseau wrote the most sublime 
panegyric on the Son of Mary. Voltaire built 
a church-! nay, so superior was his affectation 
of sanctity, that he ostentatiously declared, that 
while others were raising churches to saints, 
there was one man at least who would erect his 
church to God ;* that God whose altars he was 
overthrowing, whose name he was vilifying, 
whose Gospel he was exterminating, and the 
very name of whose Son he had solemnly pledg- 
ed himself to blot from the face of the earth ! 

Though it be impossible here to enumerate 
all those Christian virtues which should be im- 
pressed in the progress of a Christian educa- 
tion, yet in this connection I cannot forbear 
mentioning one which more immediately grows 
out of the subject, and to remark, that the prin- 
ciple which should be the invariable concomitant 
of all instruction, and especially of religious in- 
struction, is humility. As this temper is inculcat- 
ed in every page of the Gospel ; as it is deducible 
from every precept and every action of Christ ; 
that is a sufficient intimation that it should be 
made to grow out of every study, that it should 
be grafted on every acquisition. It is the turn- 
ing-point, the leading principle indicative of the 
very genius, of the very being of Christianity. 
This chastising quality should therefore be con- 
stantly made in education to operate as the only 

* Deo, erexit Voltaire, " To God, erected by Voltaire," is the 
inscription affixed by himself on his church at Ferney. 



200 ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 

counteraction of that " knowledge which puff- 
eth up." Youth should be taught, that as hu- 
mility is the discriminating!; characteristic of our 
religion, therefore a proud Christian, a haughty 
disciple of a crucified Master, furnishes, per- 
haps, a stronger opposition in 'terms, than the 
whole compass of language can exhibit. They 
should be taught that humility, being the appro- 
priate grace of Christianity, is precisely the 
thing which makes Christian and pagan virtues 
essentially different. The virtues of the Ro- 
mans, for instance, were obviously founded in 
pride; as a proof of this, they had not even a 
word in their copious language to express hu- 
mility, but what was used in a bad sense, and 
conveyed the idea of meanness or vileness, of 
baseness and servility. Christianity so stands 
on its own single ground, is so far from assimi- 
lating itself to the spirit of other religions, that, 
unlike the Roman emperor, who, though he 
would not become a Christian, yet ordered that 
the image of Christ should be set up in the 
Pantheon with those of the heathen gods, and 
be worshipped in common with them, — Chris- 
tianity not only rejects all such partnerships with 
other religions, but it pulls down their images, 
defaces their temples, tramples on their hon- 
ors, founds its own existence on the ruins of spu- 
rious religions and spurious virtues, and will be 
every thing when it is admitted to be any thing. 
Will it be going too much out of the way to 
observe, that Christian Britain retaliates upon 
pagan Rome? For if the former used humility 
in a bad sense, has not the latter learnt to use 
pride in a good one ? May we without imperti- 



ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 201 

nence venture to remark, that in the delibera- 
tions of as honorable and upright political as- 
semblies as ever adorned, or, under Providence, 
upheld a country ; in orations which leave us 
nothing to envy in Attic or Roman eloquence 
in their best days ; it were to be wished that 
we did not borrow from Rome an epithet which 
suited the genius of her religion, as much as it 
militates against that of ours! The panegyrist 
of the battle of Marathon, of Platea, or of Zama, 
might with propriety speak of a "proud day," 
or a " proud event," or a " proud success." 
But surely the Christian encomiasts of the bat- 
tle of the Nile might, from their abundance, 
select an epithet better appropriated to such a 
victory — a victory which, by preserving Europe, 
has, perhaps, preserved that religion which sets 
its foot on the very neck of pride, and in which 
the conqueror himself, even in the first ardors 
of triumph, forgot not to ascribe the victory to 
Almighty God. Let us leave to the enemy both 
the term and the thing ; arrogant words being 
the only weapons in which we must ever vail to 
their decided superiority. As we most despair 
of the victory, let us disdain the contest. 

Above all things, you must beware that your 
pupils do not take up with a vague, general, 
and undefined religion ; but look to it, that their 
Christianity be really the religion of Christ. 
Instead of slurring over the doctrines of the 
cross, as disreputable appendages to our reli- 
gion, which are to be disguised or got over as 
well as we can, but which are never to be dwelt 
upon, take care to make these your grand fun- 
damental articles. Do not dilute or explain 
18 



202 ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 

away these doctrines, and, by some elegant 
periphrasis, hint at a Saviour, instead of mak- 
ing him the foundation-stone of your system. 
Do not convey primary, and plain, and awful, 
and indispensaple truths elliptically — I mean, 
as something that is to be understood without 
being expressed — nor study fashionable circum- 
locutions to avoid names and things on which 
our salvation hangs, in order to prevent your 
discourse from being offensive. Persons who 
are thus instructed in religion, with more good 
breeding than seriousness and simplicity, im- 
bibe a distaste for plain scriptural language ; 
and the Scriptures themselves are so little in 
use with a certain fashionable class of readers, 
that when the doctrines and language of the 
Bible occasionally occur in other authors, or in 
conversation, they present a sort of novelty and 
peculiarity which offend ; and such readers as 
disuse the Bible are apt, from a supposed deli- 
cacy of taste, to call that precise and puritani- 
cal which is in fact sound and scriptural. Nay, 
it has several times happened to the author to 
hear persons of sense and learning ridicule in- 
sulated sentiments and expressions that have 
fallen in their way, which they would have 
treated with decent respect, had they known 
them to be, as they really were, texts of Scrip- 
ture. This observation is hazarded with a view 
to enforce the importance of early communicat- 
ing religious knowledge, and of infusing an 
early taste for the venerable phraseology of 
Scripture. 

The persons in question thus possessing a 
kind of pagan Christianity, are apt to acquire a 



ON THE GENIUS OF CHRISTIANITY. 203 

sort of pagan expression, also, which just ena- 
bles them to speak with complacency of the 
"Deity," of a "first cause," and of "con- 
science." Nay, some may even go so far as to 
talk of " the Founder of our religion," of the 
'* Author of Christianity," in the same general 
terms as they would talk of the prophet of Ara- 
bia, or the lawgiver of China, of Athens, or of 
the Jews. But their refined ears revolt not a 
little at the unadorned name of Christ ; and es- 
pecially the naked and unqualified term of our 
Saviour, or Redeemer, carries with it a queer- 
ish, inelegant, not to say a suspicious sound. 
They will express a serious disapprobation of 
what is wrong, under the moral term of vice, or 
the forensic term of crime ; but they are apt to 
think that the Scripture term of sin has some- 
thing fanatical in it ; and, while they discover 
a great respect for morality, they do not much 
relish holiness, which is indeed the specific and 
only morality of a Christian. They will speak 
readily of a man's reforming, or leaving off a 
vicious habit, or growing more correct in some 
individual practice ; but the idea conveyed un- 
der any. of the Scripture phrases signifying a 
total change of heart, they would stigmatize as 
the very shibboleth of a sect, though it is the 
language of a liturgy they affect to admire, and 
of a Gospel which they profess to receive. 



204 A SCHEME OF PRAYER. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Hints suggested for furnishing young persons with a scheme of 
prayer. 

Those who' are aware of the inestimable 
value of prayer themselves, will naturally be 
anxious not only that this duty should be ear- 
nestly inculcated on their children, but that 
they should be taught it in the best manner ; 
and such parents need little persuasion or coun- 
sel on the subject. Yet children of decent and 
orderly (I will not say of strictly religious) fami- 
lies are often so superficially instructed in this 
important business, that, when they are asked 
what prayers they use, it is not unusual for 
them to answer, " The Lord's prayer and the 
creed. ' ; And even some who are better taught, 
are not always made to understand with suffi- 
cient clearness the specific distinction between 
the two; that the one is the confession of their 
faith, and the other the model for their suppli- 
cations. By this confused and indistinct begin- 
ning, they set out with a perplexity in their 
ideas, which is not always completely disen- 
entangled in more advanced life. 

An intelligent mother will seize the first oc- 
casion which the child's opening understanding 
shall allow, for making a little course of lectures 
on the Lord's prayer, taking every division or 
short sentence separately ; for each furnishes 



A SCHEME OF PRAYER. 205 

valuable materials for a distinct lecture. The 
child should be led gradually through every 
part of this divine composition ; she should be 
taught to break it into all the regular divisions, 
into which, indeed, it so naturally resolves it- 
self. She should be made to comprehend, one 
by one, each of its short but weighty senten- 
ces ; to amplify and spread them out for the 
purpose of better understanding them, not in 
their most extensive and critical sense, but in 
their most simple and obvious meaning. For 
in those condensed and substantial expressions 
every word is an ingot, and will bear beating 
out ; so that the teacher's difficulty will not so 
much be what she would say, as what she shall 
suppress ; so abundant is the expository matter 
which this succinct pattern suggests. 

When the child has a pretty good conception 
of the meaning of each division, she should then 
be made to observe the connection, relation, 
and dependence of the several parts of this 
prayer one upon another ; for there is great 
method and connexion in it. We pray that the 
" kingdom of God may come," as the best 
means to " hallow his name ;" and that by us, 
the obedient subjects of his kingdom, " his will 
may be done." A judicious interpreter will 
observe how logically and consequently one 
clause grows out of another, though she will 
use neither the word logical nor consequence ; 
for all explanations should be made in the most 
plain and jfamiliar terms, it being words, and 
not things, which commonly perplex children, 
if, as it sometimes happens, the teacher, though 
18* 



206 A SCHEME OF PRAYER. 

not wanting sense, want perspicuity and sim- 
plicity.* 

The young person, from being made a com- 
plete mistress of this short composition (which, 
as it is to be her guide and model through life, 
too much pains cannot be bestowed on it,) will 
have a clearer conception, not only of its indi- 
vidual contents, but of prayer in general, than 
many ever attain, though their memory has 
been perhaps, loaded with long and unexplain- 
ed forms, which they have been accustomed to 
swallow in the lump, without scrutiny and with- 
out discrimination. Prayer should not be so 
swallowed. It is a regular prescription, which 
should stand analysis and examination ; it is 
not a charm, the successful operation of which 
depends on your blindly taking it, without know- 
ing what is in it, and in which the good you 
receive is promoted by your ignorance of its 
contents. 

I would have it understood, that by these lit- 
tle comments, I do not mean that the child 
should be put to learn dry, and to her unintelli- 
gible expositions ; but that the exposition is to 
be colloquial. And here I must remark, in 
general, that the teacher is sometimes unrea- 
sonably apt to relieve herself at the child's ex- 
pense, by loading the memory of a little crea- 
ture on occasions in which far other faculties 



* It might, perhaps, be a false rule to establish for praver in 
general, to suspect that any petition which cannot in some shape 
or other be accommodated to the spirit of some part of this prayer, 
may not be righi to be adopted. Here, temporal things are kept 
in their due subordination ; they are asked for moderately, as an 
acknowledgment of our dependence and of God's power; "for 
our heavenly Father knoweth that we have need of these things." 



A SCHEME OP PRAYER. 207 

should be put in exercise. The child herself 
should be made to furnish a good part of this 
extemporaneous commentary by her answers ; 
in which answers she will be much assisted by 
the judgment the teacher uses in her manner of 
questioning. And the youthful understanding, 
when its powers are properly set at work, will 
soon strengthen by exercise, so as to furnish 
reasonable, if not very correct, answers. 

Written forms of prayer are not only useful 
and proper, but indispensably necessary to be- 
gin with. But I will hazard the remark, that 
if children are thrown exclusively on the best 
forms, if they are made to commit them to 
memory like a copy of verses, and to repeat 
them in a dry, customary way, they will pro- 
duce little effect on their minds. They will 
not understand what they repeat, if we do not 
early open to them the important scheme of 
prayer. Without such an elementary introduc- 
tion to this duty, they will afterwards be either 
ignorant, or enthusiasts, or both. We should 
give them knowledge before we can expect them 
to make much progress in piety, and as a due 
preparative to it ; Christian instruction in this 
resembling the sun, who, in the course of his 
communication, gives light before he gives heat. 
And to labor to excite a spirit of devotion with- 
out first infusing that knowledge out of which 
it is to grow, is practically reviving the popish 
maxim, that ignorance is the mother of devo- 
tion, and virtually adopting the popish rule of 
praying in an unknown tongue. 

Children, let me again observe, will not at- 
tend to their prayers, if they do not understand 



208 A SCHEME OF PRAYER. 

them ; and they will not understand them, if 
they are not taught to analyze, to dissect them, 
to know their component parts, and to method- 
ize them. 

It is not enough to teach them to consider 
prayer under the general idea that it is an ap- 
plication to God for what they want, and an 
acknowledgment to him for what they have. 
This, though true in the gross, is not sufficiently 
precise and correct. They should learn to de- 
fine and to arrange all the different parts of 
prayer. And as a preparative to prayer itself, 
they should be impressed with as clear an idea 
as their capacity and the nature of the subject 
will admit, of " Him with whom they have to 
do." His omnipresence is, perhaps, of all his 
attributes, that of which we may make the first 
practical use. Every head of prayer is founded 
on some great scriptural truths, which truths 
the little analysis here suggested will materially 
assist to fix in their minds. 

On the knowledge that " God is," that he is 
an infinitely holy Being, and that " he is the 
rewarder of all them that diligently seek him," 
will be grounded the first part of prayer, which is 
adoration. The creature devoting itself to the 
Creator, or self -dedication, next presents itself. 
And if they are first taught that important 
truth, that as needy creatures they want help, 
which may be done by some easy analogy, they 
will easily be led to understand how naturally 
petition forms a most considerable branch of 
prayer ; and divine grace being among the 
things for which they are to petition, this natu- 
rally suggests to the mind the doctrine of the 



A SCHEME OF PRAYER. 209 

influences of the Holy Spirit. And when to 
this is added the conviction which will be 
readily worked into an ingenuous mind, that as 
offend in <r creatures they want pardon, the ne- 
cessity of confession will easily be made intelli- 
gible to them. But they should be brought to 
understand, that it must not be such a general 
and vap-ue confession as awakens no sense of 
personal humiliation, as excites no recollection 
of their own more peculiar and individual faults. 
But it must be a confession founded on self- 
knowledge, which is itself to arise out of the 
practice of self-examination ; for want of this 
sort of discriminating habit, a well-meaning but 
ill-instructed girl may be caught confessing the 
sins of some other person, and omitting those 
which are more especially her own. On the 
gladness of heart natural to youth, it will be 
less difficult to impress the delightful duty of 
thanksgiving y which forms so considerable a 
branch of prayer. In this they should be 
habituated to recapitulate not only on their 
general, but to enumerate their peculiar, daily, 
and incidental mercies, in the same specific 
manner as they should have been taught to 
detail their individual and personal wants in the 
petitionary, and their faults in the confessional 
part. The same warmth of feeling which will 
more readily dispose them to express their 
gratitude to God in thanksgiving, will also lead 
them more gladly to express their love to their 
parents and friends by adopting another indis- 
pensable, and, to an affectionate heart, pleasing 
part of prayer, which is intercession. 

When they have been made, by a plain and 



210 A SCHEME OP PRAYER, 

perspicuous mode of instruction, fully to under- 
stand the different nature of all these ; and when 
they clearly comprehend that adoration, self- 
dedication, confession, petition, thanksgiving, 
,and intercession, are distinct heads, which must 
not be involved in each other, you may exem- 
plify the rules by pointing out to them these 
successive branches in any well-written form. 
And they will easily discern, that ascription of 
glory to that God to whom we owe so much, 
and on w 7 hom we so entirely depend, is the con- 
clusion into which a Christian's prayer will 
naturally resolve itself. It is hardly needful to 
remind the teacher, that our truly scriptural 
liturgy invariably furnishes the example of pre- 
senting every request in the name of the great 
Mediator. For there is no access to the throne 
of grace, but by that new and living way. In 
the liturgy, too, they will meet with the best 
exemplifications of prayers, exhibiting separate 
specimens of each of the distinct heads we have 
been suggesting. 

But, in order that the minds of young per- 
sons may, without labor or difficulty, be gradu- 
ally brought into such a state of preparation as 
to be benefited by such a little course of lec- 
tures as we have recommended, they should, 
from the time when they were first able to read, 
have been employing themselves, at their leisure 
hours, in laying in a store of provision for their 
present demands. And here the memory may 
be employed to good purpose ; for, being the 
first faculty which is ripened, and which is in- 
deed perfected when the others are only begin- 
ning to unfold themselves, this is an intimation 



A SCHEME OF PRATER. 211 

of Providence that it should be the first seized 
on for the best uses. It should therefore be 
devoted to lay in a stock of the more easy and 
devotional parts of Scripture. The Psalms 
alone are an inexhaustible store-house of rich 
materials.* Children whose minds have been 
early well furnished from these, will be compe- 
tent, at nine or ten years old, to produce from 
them, and to select with no contemptible judg- 
ment, suitable examples of all the parts of 
prayer ; and will be able to extract and appro- 
priate texts under each respective head, so as 
to exhibit, without help, complete specimens of 
every part of prayer. By confining them en- 
tirely to the sense, and nearly to the words of 
Scripture, they will be preserved from enthu- 
siasm, from irregularity, and conceit. By being 
obliged continually to apply for themselves, they 
will D-et a habit in all their difficulties of 
" searching the Scriptures," which may be 
hereafter useful to them on other and more try- 
ing occasions. But I would at first confine 
them to the Bible ; for, were they allowed with 
equal freedom to ransack other books with a 
view to get helps to embellish their little com- 
positions, or rather compilations, they might be 
tempted to pass off for their own what they pick 
up from others, which might tend at once to 
make them both vain and deceitful. This is a 
temptation to which they are too much laid 

* This will be so far from spoiling the cheerfulness, or im- 
peding the pleasures of childhood, that the author knows a little 
girl, who, liefore she was seven years old, had learnt the whule 
Psalter through a second time ; and that without any diminution 
of uncommon gayety of spirits, or any interference with the ele- 
gant acquirements suited to her station. 



212 A SCHEME OF PRAYER. 

open when they find themselves extravagantly 
commended for any pilfered passage with which 
they decorate their little themes and letters. 
But in the present instance there is no danger 
of any similar deception ; for there is such a 
sacred signature stamped on every Scripture 
phrase, that the owner's name can never be de- 
faced or torn off from the goods, either by fraud 
or violence. 

It would be well, if, in those Psalms which 
children were first directed to get by heart, an 
eye were had to this their future application ; 
and that they were employed, but without any 
intimation of your subsequent design, in learn- 
ing such as may be best turned to this account. 
In the hundred and thirty-ninth, the first great 
truth to be imprinted on the young heart, the 
divine omnipresence, as was before observed, is 
unfolded with such a mixture of majestic gran- 
deur, and such an interesting variety of inti- 
mate and local circumstances, as is likely to 
seize on the quick and lively feelings of youth. 
The.awful idea that that Being whom she is 
taught to reverence, is not only in general 
"acquainted with all her ways," but that " he 
is about her path, and about her bed," bestows 
such a sense of real and present existence on 
Him of whom she is apt to conceive as having 
his distant habitation only in heaven, as will 
greatly help her to realize the sense of his 
presence. 

The hundred and third Psalm will open to 
the mind rich and abundant sources of expres- 
sion for gratitude and thanksgiving, and it in- 
cludes the acknowledgment of spiritual as well 



A SCHEME OF PRAYER. 213 

as temporal favors. It illustrates the compas- 
sionate mercies of God by familiar and domes- 
tic images, of such peculiar tenderness and ex- 
quisite endearment, as are calculated to strike 
upon every chord of filial fondness in the heart 
of an affectionate child. The fifty-first supplies 
an infinite variety of matter in whatever relates 
to confession of sin, or to supplication for the 
aids of the Spirit. The twenty-third abounds 
with captivating expressions of the protecting 
goodness and tender love of their heavenly Fa- 
ther, conveyed by pastoral imagery of uncom- 
mon beauty and sweetness : in short, the great- 
er part of these charming compositions overflows 
with materials for every head of prayer. 

The child, who, while she was engaged in 
learning these Scriptures, was not aware that 
there was any specific object in view, or any 
further end to be answered by it, will afterwards 
feel an unexpected pleasure arising from the 
application of her petty labors, when she is call- 
ed to draw out from her little treasury of knovvl 
edge the stores she has been insensibly collect- 
ing ; and will be pleased to find, that without 
any fresh application to study, — for she is now 
obliged to exercise a higher faculty than memory, 
— she has lying ready in her mind the materials 
with which she is at length called upon to work. 
Her judgment must be set about selecting one, 
or two, or more texts which shall contain the 
substance of every specific head of prayer be- 
fore noticed ; and it will be a further exercise 
to her understanding to concatenate the de- 
tached parts into one regular whole, occasion- 
ally varving the arrangement as she likes; that 
19 



214 A SCHEME OF PRAYER. 

is, changing the order, sometimes beginning 
with invocation, sometimes with confession ; 
sometimes dwelling longer on one part, some- 
times on another. As the hardships of a reli- 
gious Sunday are often so pathetically pleaded, 
as making one of the heavy burdens of religion 
— and as the friends of religion are so often 
called upon to mitigate its intolerable rigors, by 
recommending pleasant employment — might not 
such an exercise, as has been here suggested, 
help, by varying its occupations, to lighten its 
load 1 

The habits of the pupil being thus early 
formed, her memory, attention, and intellect 
being bent in a right direction, and the exercise 
invariably maintained, may we not reasonably 
hope that her affections also, through divine 
grace, may become interested in the work, till 
she will be enabled " to pray with the spirit, 
and with the understanding also V She will 
now be qualified to use a well-composed form, 
if necessary, with seriousness and advantage; 
for she will now use it not mechanically, but 
rationally. That which before appeared to her 
a mere mass of good words, will now appear a 
significant composition, exhibiting variety, and 
regularity, and beauty ; and while she will have 
the further advantage of being enabled by her 
improved judgment to distinguish and select for 
her own purpose such prayers as are more judi- 
cious and more scriptural, it will also habituate 
her to look for plan and design, and lucid order, 
in other works. 



PRACTICAL USE OF FEM ALE KNOWLEDGE. 215 



CHAPTER XIV. 

The practical use of female knowledge, with a sketch of the 
female character, and a comparative view of the sexes. 

The chief end to be proposed in cultivating 
the understandings of women, is to qualify them 
for the practical purposes of life. Their knowl- 
edge is not often, like the learning of men, to 
be reproduced in some literary composition, nor 
ever in any learned profession ; but it is to come 
out in conduct. It is to be exhibited in life 
and manners. A lady studies, not that she 
may qualify herself to become an orator or a 
pleader ; not that she may learn to debate, but 
to act. She is to read the best books, not so 
much to enable her to talk of them, as to bring 
the improvement which they furnish to the rec- 
tification of her principles and the formation of 
her habits. The great uses of study to a wo- 
man are to enable her to regulate her own 
mind, and to be instrumental to the good of 
others. 

To woman, therefore, whatever be her rank, 
I would recommend a predominance of those 
more sober studies, which, not having display 
for their object, may make her wise without 
vanity, happy without witnesses, and content 
without panegyrists; the exercise of which will 
not bring celebrity, but improve usefulness. 
She should pursue every kind of study which 
will teach her to elicit truth ; which will lead 



216 PRACTICAL USE OP 

her to be intent upon realities ; will give pre- 
cision to her ideas; will make an exact mind. 
She should cultivate every study, which, instead 
of stimulating her sensibility, will chastise it; 
which will neither create an excessive or a false 
refinement; which will give her definite no- 
tions; will bring the imagination under do- 
minion ; will lead her to think, to compare, to 
combine, to methodize ; which will confer such 
a power of discrimination, that her judgment 
shall learn to reject what is dazzling, if it be 
not solid ; and to prefer, not what is striking, or 
bright, or new, but what is just. That kind of 
knowledge which is rather fitted for home con- 
sumption than foreign exportation, is peculiarly 
adapted to women.* 

It is because the superficial nature of their 
education furnishes them with a false and low 
standard of intellectual excellence, that women 
have too often become ridiculous by the un- 
founded pretensions of literary vanity ; for it is 
not the really learned, but the smatterers, who 
have generally brought their sex into discredit 
by an absurd affectation which has set them on 
despising the duties of ordinary life. There 
have not, indeed, been wanting (but the char- 
acter is not now common) precienses ridicules, 
who, assuming a superiority to the sober cares 
which ought to occupy their sex, have claimed 



* May I he allowed to strengthen my own opinion with the 
authority of Dr. Johnson, that a woman cannot have too mveh arith- 
metic! It is a so!id, practical acquirement, in which there is 
much use and little display ; it is a quiet, sober kind of knowl- 
edge, which she acquires for herself and her family, and not for 
She world. 



FEMALE KNOWLEDGE. 217 

a lofty and supercillious exemption from the 
dull and plodding drudgeries 

Of this dim speck called earth ! 

There have not been wanting ill-judging fe- 
males, who have affected to establish an un- 
natural separation between talents and useful- 
ness, instead of bearing in mind that talents are 
the great appointed instruments of usefulness; 
who have acted as if knowledge were to confer 
on woman a kind of fantastic sovereignty, which 
should exonerate her from the discharge of fe- 
male duties ; whereas it is only meant the more 
eminently to qualify her for the performance of 
them. A woman of real sense will never for- 
get, that while the greater part of her proper 
duties are such as the most moderately gifted 
may fulfil with credit (since Providence never 
makes that to be very difficult which is gen- 
erally necessary,) yet that the most highly en- 
dowed are equally bound to fulfil them ; and let 
her remember that the humblest of these offices, 
performed on Christian principles, are whole- 
some for the minds even of the most enlighten- 
ed, as they tend to the casting down of those 
" high imaginations" which women of genius 
are too much tempted to indulge. 

For instance ; ladies whose natural vanity 
has been aggravated by a false education, may 
look down on economy as a vulgar attainment, 
unworthy of the attention of a highly cultivated 
intellect ; but this is the false estimate of a 
shallow mind. Economy, such as a woman of 
fortune is called on to practise, is not merely 
the petty detail of small daily expenses, the 
19* 



218 PRACTICAL USE OF 

shabby curtailments and stinted parsimony of 
a little mind operating on little concerns ; but 
it is the exercise of a sound judgment exerted 
in the comprehensive outline of order, of ar- 
rangement, of distribution ; of regulations by 
which alone well-governed societies, great and 
small, subsist. She who has the best-regulated 
mind will, other things being equal, have the 
best-regulated family. As in the superintend- 
ence of the universe, wisdom is seen in its 
effects ; and as in the visible works of Provi- 
dence, that which goes on with such beautiful 
regularity is the result, not of chance, but of 
design ; so, that management which seems the 
most easy, is commonly the consequence of the 
best-concerted plan ; and a well-concerted plan 
is seldom the offspring of an ordinary mind. 
A sound economy is a sound understanding 
brought into action ; it is calculation realized ; 
it is the doctrine of proportion reduced to prac- 
tice ; it is foreseeing consequences, and guard- 
ing against them ; it is expecting contingencies, 
and being prepared for them. The difference 
is, that to a narrow-minded, vulgar economist, 
the details are continually present ; she is over- 
whelmed by their weight, and is perpetually be- 
speaking your pity for her labors, and your 
praise for her exertions ; she is afraid you will 
not see how much she is harassed. She is not 
satisfied that the machine moves harmoniously, 
unless she is perpetually exposing every secret 
spring to observation. Little events and trivial 
operations engross her whole soul ; while a 
woman of sense, having provided for their pro- 
bable recurrence, guards against the incon- 



F2MALE KNOWLEDGE. 219 

veniencies, without being disconcerted by the 
casual obstructions which they offer to her gen- 
eral scheme. Subordinate expenses and incon- 
siderable retrenchments should not swallow up 
that attention which is better bestowed on regu- 
lating the general scale of expense, correcting 
and reducing an overgrown establishment, and 
reforming radical and growing excesses. 

Superior talents, however, are not so com- 
mon, as, by their frequency, to offer much dis- 
turbance to the general course of human affairs ; 
and many a lady, who tacitly accuses herself of 
neglecting her ordinary duties because she is a 
genius, will, perhaps, be found often to accuse 
herself as unjustly as good St. Jerome, when he 
laments that he was beaten by the angel for be- 
ing too Ciceronian in his style. 

The truth is, women who are so puffed up 
with the conceit of talents as to neglect the plain 
duties of life, will not frequently be found to be 
women of the best abilities. And here may the 
author be allowed the gratification of observing, 
that those women of real genius and extensive 
knowledge, whose friendship has conferred 
honor and happiness on her own life, have been, 
in general, eminent for economy, and the prac- 
tice of domestic virtues ; and have risen supe- 
rior to the poor affectation of neglecting the 
duties and despising the knowledge of common 
life, with which literary women have been fre- 
quently, and not always unjustly accused. 

A romantic girl with a pretension to senti- 
ment, which her still more ignorant friends mis- 
take for genius (for in the empire of the blind, 
the one-eyed are kings,) and possessing some- 



220 PRACTICAL USE OF 

thing of a natural ear, has perhaps in her child- 
hood exhausted all the images of grief, and 
love, and fancy, picked up in her desultory po- 
etical reading in an elegy on a sick linnet, or a 
sonnet on a dead lap-dog ; she begins thence- 
forward to be considered as a prodigy in her 
little circle ; surrounded with fond and flatter- 
ing friends, every avenue to truth is shut out ; 
she has no opportunity of learning that her fame 
is derived not from her powers, but her posi- 
tion ; and that when an impartial critic shall 
have made all the necessary deductions, such 
as — that she is a neighbor, that she is a rela- 
tion, that she is a female, that she is young, 
that she has had no advantages, that she is 
pretty, perhaps — when her verses come to be 
stripped of all their extraneous appendages, and 
the fair author is driven off her 'vantage ground 
of partiality, sex, and favor, she will commonly 
sink to the level of ordinary capacities. While 
those more quiet women, who have meekly sat 
down in the humble shades of prose and pru- 
dence, by a patient perseverance in rational 
studies, rise afterwards much higher in the 
scale of intellect, and acquire a much larger 
stock of sound knowledge for far better pur- 
poses than mere display. And, though it may 
seem a contradiction, yet it will generally be 
found true, that girls who take to scribble are 
the least studious, the least reflecting, and the 
least rational. They early acquire a false con- 
fidence in their own unassisted powers ; it be- 
comes more gratifying to their natural vanity to 
be always pouring out their minds on paper, 
than to be drawing into them fresh ideas from 



FEMALE KNOWLEDGE. 221 

richer sources. The original stock, small per- 
haps at first, is soon spent. The subsequent 
efforts grow more and more feeble, if the mind, 
which is continually exhausting itself, be not 
also continually replenished ; till the latter com- 
positions become little more than reproductions 
of the same ideas, and fainter copies of the 
same images, a little varied and modified per- 
haps, and not a little diluted and enfeebled. 

It will be necessary to combat vigilantly that 
favorite plea of lively ignorance, that study is 
an enemy to originality. Correct the judgment, 
while you humble the vanity of the young, un- 
taught pretender, by convincing her that those 
half-formed thoughts and undigested ideas which 
she considers as proofs of her invention, prove 
only, that she wants taste and knowledge ; that 
while conversation must polish, and reflection 
invigorate her ideas, she must improve and en- 
large them by the accession of various kinds of 
virtuous and elegant literature ; and that the 
cultivated mind will repay with large interest 
the seeds sown in it by judicious study. Let it 
be observed, 1 am by no means encouraging 
young ladies to turn authors ; I am only re- 
minding them, that 

Authors before they write should read ; 

I am only putting them in mind, that to be ig- 
norant is not to be original. 

These self-taught and self-dependent scrib- 
blers pant for the unmerited and unattainable 
praise of fancy and of genius, while they dis- 
dain the commendation of judgment, knowl- 
edge, and perseverance, which would probably 
be within their reach. To extort admiration, 



222 PEACTtCAL USE OF 

they are accustomed to boast of an impossible 
rapidity in composing ; and while they insinu- 
ate how little time their performances cost them, 
they intend you should infer how perfect they 
might have made them, had they condescended 
to the drudgery of application ; but application 
with them implies defect of genius. They take 
superfluous pains to convice you that there was 
neither learning nor labor employed in the 
work for which they solicit your praise. Alas S 
the judicious eye too soon perceives it ! though 
it does not perceive that native strength and 
mother-wit, which in works of real genius make 
some amends for the negligence, which yet they 
do not justify. But instead of extolling these 
effusions for their facility, it would be kind in 
friends rather to blame them for their crude- 
ness ; and when the young candidates for fame 
are eager to prove in how short a time such a 
poem has been struck off, it would be well to 
regret that they had not either taken a longer 
time, or refrained from writing at all ; as in the 
former case the work would have been less de- 
fective, and in the latter the writer would have 
discovered more humility and self-distrust. 

A general capacity for knowledge and the 
cultivation of the understanding at large, will 
always put a woman into the best state for 
directing her pursuits into those particular chan- 
nels which her destination in life may after- 
wards require. She should be carefully in- 
structed that her talents are only a means to a 
still higher attainment, and that she is not to 
rest in them as an end ; that merely to exercise 
them as instruments for the acquisition of fame 



FEMALE KNOWLEDGE. 223 

and the promotion of pleasure, is subversive of 
her delicacy as a woman, and contrary to the 
spirit of a Christian. 

Study, therefore, is to be considered as the 
means of strengthening the mind, and of fitting 
it for higher duties, just as exercise is to be 
considered as an instrument for strengthening 
the body for the same purpose. And the vale- 
tudinarian who is religiously punctual in the 
observance of his daily rides to promote his 
health, and rests in that as an end, without so 
much as intending to make his improved health 
an instrument of increased usefulness, acts on 
the same low and selfish principle with her who 
reads merely for pleasure and for fame, without 
any design of devoting the more enlarged and 
invigorated mind to the glory of the Giver. 

But there is one human consideration which 
would perhaps more effectually tend to damp in 
an aspiring woman the ardors of literary vanity 
(I speak not of real genius, though there the 
remark often applies,) than any which she will 
derive from motives of humility, or propriety, or 
religion ; which is, that in the judgment passed 
on her performances, she will have to encoun- 
ter the mortifying circumstance of having her 
sex always taken into account ; and her highest 
exertions will probably be received with the 
qualified approbation, that it is really extraor- 
dinary for a woman. Men of learning, who 
are naturally inclined to estimate works in pro- 
portion as they appear to be the result of art, 
study, and institution, are inclined to consider 
even the happier performances of the other sex 
as the spontaneous productions of a fruitful but 



224 FEMALE KNOWLEDGE. 

shallow soil; and to give them the same kind 
of praise which we bestow on certain salads, 
which often draw from us a sort of wondering 
commendation ; not indeed as being worth much 
in themselves, but because by the lightness of 
the earth, and a happy knack of the gardener, 
these indifferent cresses spring up in a night, 
and therefore we are ready to wonder they are 
no worse. 

As to men of sense, however, they need be 
the less hostile to the improvement of the other 
sex, as they themselves will be sure to be gain- 
ers by it ; the enlargement of the female un- 
derstanding being the most likely means to put 
an end to those petty and absurd contentions 
for equality which female smatterers so anxious- 
ly maintain. I say smatterers, for between the 
first class of both sexes the question is much 
more rarely and always more temperately agi- 
tated. Cooperation, and not competition, is 
indeed the clear principle we wish to see recip- 
rocally adopted by those higher minds in each 
sex which really approximate the nearest to 
each other. The more a woman's understand- 
ing is improved, the more obviously she will 
discern that there can be no happiness in any 
society where there is a perpetual struggle for 
power; and the more her judgment is rectified, 
the more accurate views will she take of the 
station she was born to fill, and the more readi- 
ly will she accommodate herself to it ; while 
the most vulgar and ill-ii formed women are 
ever most inclined to be tyrants, and those al- 
ways struggle most vehemently for power, who 
feel themselves at the greatest distance from 



COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 225 

deserving it, and who would not fail to make 
the worst use of it when attained. Thus the 
weakest reasoners are always the most positive 
in debate ; and the cause is obvious, for they 
are unavoidably driven to maintain their pre- 
tensions by violence, who want arguments and 
reasons to prove that they are in the right. 

There is this singular difference between a 
woman vain of her wit, and a woman vain of 
her beauty ; that the beauty, while she is anx- 
iously alive to her own fame, is often indiffer- 
ent enough about the beauty of other women ; 
and, provided she herself is sure of your admi- 
ration, she does not insist on your thinking that 
there is another handsome woman in the world ; 
while she who is vain of her genius, more lib- 
eral at least in her vanity, is jealous for the 
honor of her whole sex, and contends for the 
equality of their pretensions as a body, in which 
she feels that her own are involved as an indi- 
vidual. The beauty vindicates her own rights; 
the wit, the rights of women ; the beauty fights 
for herself; the wit, for a party ; and while the 
more selfish, though more moderate beauty, 

would but be queen for life, 

the public-spirited wit struggles to abrogate the 
salique law of intellect, and to enthrone 

a whole sex of queens. 

At the revival of letters in. the sixteenth and 
the following century, the controversy about 
this equality was agitated with more warmth 
than wisdom ; and the process was instituted 
and carried on, on the part of the female com- 
20 



226 COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 

plainant, with that sort of acrimony which al- 
ways raises a suspicion of the justice of any 
cause ; for violence commonly implies doubt, 
and invective indicates weakness rather than 
strength. The novelty of that knowledge which 
was then bursting out from the dawn of a long, 
dark night, kindled all the ardors of the female 
mind, and the ladies fought zealously for a por- 
tion of that renown which the reputation of 
learning was beginning to bestow. Besides 
their own pens, they had for their advocates all 
those needy authors who had any thing to hope 
from their power, their riches, or their influ- 
ence ; and so giddy did some of these literary 
ladies become by the adulation of their numer- 
ous panegyrists, that, through these repeated 
draughts of inebriating praise, they even lost 
their former moderate measure of sober-minded- 
ness, and grew to despise the equality for which 
they had before contended, as a state below 
their merit and unworthy of their acceptance. 
They now scorned to litigate for what they al- 
ready thought they so obviously possessed, and 
nothing short of the palm of superiority was at 
length considered as adequate to their growing 
claims. When court-ladies and princesses 
were the candidates, they could not long want 
champions to support their cause ; by these 
champions, female authorities were produced, 
as if paramount to facts ; quotations from these 
female authors were considered as proofs, and 
their point-blank assertions stood for solid and 
irrefragable arguments. In those parasites who 
offered this homage to female genius, the hom- 
age was the effect neither of truth, nor of jus- 



COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 227 

tice, nor of conviction. It arose rather out of 
gratitude, or it was a reciprocation of flattery ; 
it was sometimes vanity, it was often distress, 
which prompted the adulation ; it was the want 
of a patroness ; it was the want of a dinner. 
When a lady, and especially, as it then often 
happened, when a lady who was noble or royal, 
sat with gratifying docility at the foot of a pro- 
fessor's chair ; when she admired the philoso- 
pher, or took upon her to protect the theologian, 
whom his rivals among his own sex were tear- 
ing to pieces, — what could the grateful profes- 
sor or delighted theologian do less in return 
than make the apotheosis of her who had had 
the penetration to discern his merit and the 
spirit to reward it? Thus, in fact, it was not 
so much her vanity as his own, that he was 
often flattering, though she was the dupe of her 
more deep and designing panegyrist. 

But it is a little unfortunate for the perpetuity 
of that fame which the encomiast had made 
over to his patroness, in the never-dying records 
of his verses and orations, that in the revolution 
of a century or two the very names of the flat- 
tered are now almost as little known as the 
works of the flatterers. Their memorial is per- 
ished with the?n;* — an instructive lesson, re- 
minding us, that whoever bestows or assumes a 
reputation disproportioned to the merit of the 
claimant, will find that reputation as little dura- 
ble as it is solid. For this literary warfare, 
which engaged such troops of the second-hand 
authors of the age in question in such continual 

* See Biantome, Peie le Moine, JMons. Thomas, &c. 



228 COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 

skirmishes, and not a few pitched battles ; which 
provoked so much rancor, so many volumes, 
and so little wit ; so much vanity, so much flat- 
tery, and so much invective, — produced no use- 
ful or lasting effect. Those who promised them- 
selves that their names would outlive " one half 
of round eternity," did not reach the end of the 
century in which the boast was made ; and 
those who prodigally offered the incense, and 
those who greedily snuffed up its fumes, are 
buried in the same blank oblivion ! 

But when the temple of Janus seemed to have 
been closed, or when at worst the peace was 
only occasionally broken by a slight and ran- 
dom shot from the hand of some single strag- 
gler, it appears that though open rebellion had 
ceased, yet the female claim had not been re- 
nounced ; it had only (if we may change the 
metaphor) lain in abeyance. The contest has 
recently been revived with added fury, and with 
multiplied exactions ; for whereas the ancient 
demand was merely a kind of imaginary pre- 
rogative, a speculative importance, a mere titu- 
lar right, a shadowy claim to a few unreal acres 
of Parnassian territory, the revived contention 
has taken a more serious turn, and brings for- 
ward political as well as intellectual preten- 
sions : and amonp 1 the innovations of this inno- 
vating period, the imposing term of rights has 
been produced to sanctify the claim of our fe- 
male pretenders, with a view not only to rekin- 
dle in the minds of women a presumptuous 
vanity dishonorable to their sex, but produced 
with a view to excite in their hearts an impious 
discontent with the post which God has assign- 
ed them in this world. 



COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 229 

But they little understand the true interests 
of woman who would lift her from the important 
duties of her alloted station, to fill with fantastic 
dignity a loftier but less appropriate niche. Nor 
do they understand her true happiness, who 
seek to annihilate distinctions from which she 
derives advantages, and to attempt innovations 
which would depreciate her real value. Each 
sex has its proper excellences, which would be 
lost were they melted down into the common 
character by the fusion of the new philosophy. 
Why should we do away distinctions which in- 
crease the mutual benefits, and enhance the 
satisfactions of life? Whence, but by carefully 
preserving the original marks of difference 
stamped by the hand of the Creator, would be 
derived the superior advantage of mixed so- 
ciety ? Is either sex so abounding in perfec- 
tion as to be independent on the other for im- 
provement? Have men no need to have their 
rough angles filed off, and their harshnesses and 
asperities smoothed and polished by assimilat- 
ing with beings of more softness and refinement ? 
Are the ideas of women naturally so very judi- 
cious, are their principles so invincibly firm, 
are their views so perfectly correct, are their 
judgments so completely exact, that there is oc- 
casion for no additional weight, no superadded 
strength, no increased clearness, none of that 
enlargement of mind, none of that additional in- 
vigoration which may be derived from the aids 
of the stronger sex? What identity could ad- 
vantageously supersede such an enlivening op- 
position, such an interesting variety of charac- 
ter ? Is it not, then, more wise, as well as more 
20* 



230 COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 

honorable, to move contentedly in the plain 
path which Providence has obviously marked 
out to the sex, and in which custom has for the 
most part rationally confirmed them, rather than 
to stray awkwardly, unbecomingly, and unsuc- 
cessfully in a forbidden road ? Is it not desira- 
ble to be the lawful possessors of a lesser domes- 
tic territory, rather than the turbulent usurpers 
of a wider foreign empire 1 to be good originals, 
than bad imitators 1 to be the best things of one's 
own kind, rather than an inferior thing, even if 
it were of an higher kind 1 to be excellent wo- 
men, rather than indifferent men '? 

Is the author, then, undervaluing her own 
sex 1 No. It is her zeal for their true inter- 
ests, which leads her to oppose their imaginary 
rights. It is her regard for their happiness, 
which makes her endeavor to cure them of a 
feverish thirst for a fame as unattainable as inap- 
propriate ; to guard them against an ambition 
as little becoming the delicacy of their female 
character as the meekness of their religious 
profession. A little Christian humility and 
sober-mindedness are worth all the empty re- 
nown which was ever obtained by the misap- 
plied energies of the sex ; it is worth all the 
wild metaphysical discussion which has ever 
been obtruded under the name of reason and 
philosophy ; which has unsettled the peace of 
vain women, and forfeited the respect of reason- 
able men. And the most elaborate definition 
of ideal rights, and the most hardy measures for 
attaining them, are of less value in the eyes of 
a truly amiable woman, than " that meek and 
quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of 
great price." 



COMPARATIVE VIEW OF TPIE SEXES. 231 

Natural propensities best mark the designa- 
tions of Providence as to their application. The 
fin was not more clearly bestowed on the fish 
that he should swim, nor the wing given to the 
bird that he should fly, than superior strength 
of body, and a firmer texture of mind, was given 
to man, that he might preside in the deep and 
daring scenes of action and of council ; in the 
complicated arts of government, in the conten- 
tion of arms, in the intricacies and depths of 
science, in the bustle of commerce, and in those 
professions which demand a higher reach, and 
a wider range of powers. The true value of 
woman is not diminished by the imputation of 
inferiority in those talents which do not belong 
to her, of those qualities in which her claim to 
excellence does not consist. She has other 
requisites, better adapted to answer the end and 
purposes of her being, from " Him who does all 
things well ;" who suits the agent to the action, 
who accommodates the instrument to the work. 

Let not then aspiring, because ill-judging 
woman, view with pining envy the keen satirist, 
hunting vice through all the doublings and 
windings of the heart ; the sagacious politician, 
leading senates, and directing the fate of em- 
pires ; the acute lawyer, detecting the obliquities 
of fraud ; and the skilful dramatist, exposing the 
pretensions of folly ; but let her ambition be 
consoled by reflecting, that those who thus ex- 
cel, to all that nature bestows and books can 
teach, must add besides that consummate knowl- 
edge of the world, to which a delicate woman 
has no fair avenues, and which, even if she 
could attain, she would never be supposed to 
have come honestly by. 



232 COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 

In almost, all that comes under the descrip- 
tion of polite letters, in all that captivates by 
imagery, or warms by just and affecting senti- 
ment, women are excellent. They possess in 
a high degree that delicacy and quickness of 
perception, and that nice discernment between 
the beautiful and defective, which comes under 
the denomination of taste. Both in composi- 
tion and action they excel in details ; but they 
do not so much Generalize their ideas as men, 
nor do their minds seize a great subject with so 
large a grasp. They are acute observers, and 
accurate judges, of life and manners, as far as 
their own sphere of observation extends ; but 
they describe a smaller circle. A woman sees 
the world, as it were, from a little elevation in 
her own garden, whence she makes an exact 
survey of home scenes, but takes not in that 
wider range of distant prospects which he who 
stands on a loftier eminence commands. Wo- 
men have a certain tact which often enables 
them to feel what is just more instantaneously 
than they can define it. They have an intui- 
tive penetration into character, bestowed on 
them by Providence, like the sensitive and ten- 
der organs of some timid animals, as a kind of 
natural guard, to warn of the approach of dan- 
ger beings who are often called to act defen- 
sively. 

In summing up the evidence, if I may so 
speak, of the different capacities of the sexes, 
one may venture, perhaps, to assert, that women 
have equal parts, but are inferior in ivholencss 
of mind, in the integral understanding ; that 
though a superior woman may possess single 



COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 233 

faculties in equal perfection, yet there is com- 
monly a juster proportion in the mind of a su- 
perior man ; that if women have in an equal 
degree the faculty of fancy which creates ima- 
ges, and the faculty of memory which collects 
and stores ideas, they seem not to possess, in 
equal measure, the faculty of comparing, com- 
bining, analyzing, and separating these ideas; 
that deep and patient thinking which goes to 
the bottom of a subject; nor that power of ar- 
rangement which knows how to link a thousand 
connected ideas in one dependent train, with- 
out losing sight of the original idea out of which 
the rest grow, and on which they all hang. 
The female, too, wanting steadiness in her in- 

7 7 O 

tellectual pursuits, is perpetually turned aside 
by her characteristic tastes and feelings. Wo- 
man, in the career of genius, is the Atalanta, 
who will risk losing the race by running out of 
her road to pick up the golden apple ; while 
her male competitor, without perhaps possess- 
ing greater natural strength or swiftness, will 
more certainly attain his object by direct pur- 
suit, by being less exposed to the seductions of 
extraneous beauty, and will win the race, not 
by excelling in speed, but by despising the 
bait.* 

Here it may be justly enough retorted, that, 
as it is allowed the education of women is so 
defective, the alleged inferiority of their minds 
may be accounted for on that ground more just- 

* What indisposes even reasonable women to concede in these 
points is, that the weakest man instantly lays hold on the con- 
cession ; and on the mere ground of sex, plumes himself on his 
own individual superiority, inferring that the silliest man is su- 
perior to the first-rate woman. 



234 COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 

ly than by ascribing it to their natural make. 
And, indeed, there is so much truth in the re- 
mark, that, till women shall be more reasonably 
educated, and till the native growth of their 
mind shall cease to be stinted and cramped, we 
have no juster ground for pronouncing that their 
understanding has already reached its highest 
attainable point, than that the Chinese would 
have for affirming that their women have at- 
tained to the greatest possible perfection in walk- 
ing, while the first care is, during their infancy, 
to cripple their feet. At least, till the female 
sex are more carefully instructed, this question 
will always remain as undecided as to the de- 
gree of difference between the masculine and 
feminine understanding, as the question between 
the understandings of blacks and whites ; for, 
until men and women, and until Africans and 
Europeans, are put more nearly on a par in the 
cultivation of their minds, the shades of distinc- 
tion, whatever they be, between their native 
abilities, can never be fairly ascertained. 

And when we see (and who will deny that 
we see it frequently ?) so many women nobly 
rising from under all the pressure of a disadvan- 
tageous education and a defective system of so- 
ciety, and exhibiting the most unambiguous 
marks of a vigorous understanding, a correct 
judgment, and a sterling piety, it reminds us of 
those shining lights which have now and then 
burst out through all the " darkness visible" of 
the Romish church, have disencumbered them- 
selves from the gloom of ignorance, shaken off 
the fetters of prejudice, and with a noble ener- 
gy, risen superior to all the errors of a corrupt 
theology. 



COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 235 

But, whatever characteristica] distinctions 
may exist ; whatever inferiority may be attach- 
ed to woman from the slighter frame of her 
body, or the more circumscribed powers of her 
mind ; from a less systematic education, and 
from the subordinate station she is called to fill 
in life ; there is one great and leading circum- 
stance which raises her importance, and even 
establishes her equality. Christianity has ex- 
alted woman to true and undisputed dignity; in 
Christ Jesus, as there is neither " rich nor 
poor," " bond nor free," so there is neither 
" male nor female." In the view of that im- 
mortality which is brought to light by the Gos- 
pel, she has no superior. " Women" (to bor- 
row the idea of an excellent prelate) " make up 
one half of the human race ; equally with men 
redeemed by the blood of Christ." In this 
their true dignity consists; here their best pre- 
tensions rest ; here their highest claims are al- 
lowed. 

All disputes then for preeminence between 
the sexes have only for their object the poor 
precedence for a few short years, the attention 
of which would be better devoted to the duties 
of life and the interests of eternity. 

And, as the final hope of the female sex is 
equal, so are their present means, perhaps, more 
favorable, and their opportunities often less ob- 
structed, than those of the other sex. In their 
Christian course, women have every superior 
advantage, whether we consider the natural 
make of their minds, their leisure for acquisi- 
tion in youth, or their subsequently less exposed 
mode of life. Their hearts are naturally soft 



236 COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 

and flexible, open to impressions of love and 
gratitude ; their feelings tender and lively : all 
these are favorable to the cultivation of a devo- 
tional spirit. Yet, while we remind them of 
these native benefits, they will do well to be on 
their guard, let this very softness and ductility 
lay them more open to the seductions of tempta- 
tion and error. 

They have in the native constitution of their 
minds, as well as from the relative situations 
they are called to fill, a certain sense of attach- 
ment and dependence, which is peculiarly fa- 
vorable to religion. They feel, perhaps, more 
intimately the want of a strength which is not 
their own. Christianity brings that superin- 
duced strength : it comes in aid of their con- 
scious weakness, and offers the only true coun- 
terpoise to it. " Woman, be thou healed of 
thine infirmity," is still the heart-cheering lan- 
guage of a gracious Saviour. 

Women, also, bring to the study of Chris- 
tianity fewer of those prejudices which persons 
of the other sex too often early contract. Men, 
from their classical education, acquire a strong 
partiality for the manners of pagan antiquity, 
and the documents of pagan philosophy : this, 
together with the impure taint caught from the 
loose descriptions of their poets, and the licen- 
tious language even of their historians (in whom 
we reasonably look for more gravity,) often 
weakens the good impressions of young men, 
and at least confuses their ideas of piety, by 
mixing them with so much heterogeneous mat- 
ter. Their very spirits are imbued all the week 
with the impure follies of a depraved mytholo- 



COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 237 

gy ; and it is well, if, even on Sundays, they 
can hear of the " true God, and Jesus Christ 
whom he has sent." While women, though 
struggling with the same natural corruptions, 
have commonly less knowledge to unknow, and 
fewer schemes to unlearn ; they have not to 
shake off the pride of system, and to disencum- 
ber their minds from the shackles of favorite 
theories : they do not bring from the porch or 
the academy any " oppositions of science" to 
obstruct their reception of those pure doctrines 
taught on the Mount : doctrines which ought to 
find a readier entrance into minds uninfected 
with the pride of the school of Zeno, or the 
libertinism of that of Epicurus, 

And as women are naturally more affection- 
ate than fastidious, they are likely both to read 
and to hear with a less critical spirit than men : 
they will not be on the watch to detect errors, 
so much as to gather improvement ; they have 
seldom that hardness which is acquired by deal- 
ing deeply in books of controversy, but are more 
inclined to the perusal of works which quicken 
the devotional feelings, than to such as awaken 
a spirit of doubt and skepticism. They are less 
disposed to consider the compositions they read, 
as materials on which to ground objections and 
answers, than as helps to faith, and rules of life. 
With these advantages, however, they should 
also bear in mind that their more easily re- 
ceived impressions being often less abiding, and 
their reason less open to conviction by means 
of the strong evidences which exist in favor of 
the truth of Christianity, " they ought, there- 
fore, to give the more earnest heed to the things 
21 



238 COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 

which they have heard, lest at any time they 
should let them slip." Women are also, from 
their domestic habits, in possession of more 
leisure and tranquillity for religious pursuits, as 
well as secured from those difficulties and strong 
temptations to which men are exposed in the 
tumult of a bustling world. Their lives are 
more regular and uniform, less agitated by the 
passions, the businesses, the contentions, the 
shock of opinions, and the opposition of inter- 
ests, which divide society, and convulse the 
world. 

If we have denied them the possession of tal- 
ents which might lead them to excel as lawyers, 
they are preserved from the peri! of having their 
principles warped by that too indiscriminate 
defence of right and wrong, to which the pro- 
fessors of the law are exposed. If we should 
question their title to eminence as mathemati- 
cians, they are happily exempt from the danger 
to which men devoted to that science are said 
to be liable ; namely, that of looking for demon- 
stration on subjects which by their very nature 
are incapable of affording it. If they are less 
conversant in the powers of nature, the struc- 
ture of the human frame, and the knowledge of 
the heavenly bodies, than philosophers, physi- 
cians, and astronomers, they are, however, de- 
livered from the error into which many of each 
of these have sometimes fallen ; I mean, from 
the fatal habit of resting in second causes, in- 
stead of referring all to the first ; instead of 
making " the heavens declare the glory of God, 
and proclaim his handy-work ;" instead of con- 
cluding, when they observe " how fearfully and 



COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 239 

wonderfully we are made, Marvellous are thy 
works, O Lord, and that my soul knoweth right 
well." 

And let the weaker sex take comfort, that in 
their very exemption from privileges, which 
they are sometimes foolishly disposed to envy, 
consists not only their security, but their happi- 
ness. If they enjoy not the distinctions of pub- 
lic life and high offices, do they not escape the 
responsibility attached to them, and the mortifi- 
cation of being dismissed from them'? If they 
have no voice in deliberative assemblies, do they 
not avoid the load of duty inseparably connect- 
ed with such privileges ? Preposterous pains 
have been taken to excite in women an uneasy 
jealousy, that their talents are neither rewarded 
with public honors nor emoluments in life, nor 
with inscriptions, statues, and mausoleums after 
death. It has been absurdly represented to 
them as a hardship, that while they are expect- 
ed to perform duties, they must yet be content- 
ed to relinquish honors, and must unjustly be 
compelled to renounce fame while they most 
sedulously labor to deserve it. 

But for Christian women to act on the low 
views suggested to them by their ill-judging 
panegyrists; for Christian women to look up 
with a giddy head and a throbbing heart to 
honors and remunerations so little suited to the 
wants and capacities of an immortal spirit, would 
be no less ridiculous than if Christian heroes 
should look back with envy on the old pagan 
rewards of ovations, oak garlands, parsley 
crowns, and laurel wreaths. The Christian 
hope more than reconciles Christian women to 



240 COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 

these petty privations, by substituting a nobler 
prize for their ambition, " the prize of the high- 
calling of God in Christ Jesus ;" by substitut- 
ing, for that popular and fluctuating voice, 
which may cry " Hosanna" and " Crucify" in 
a breath, that favor of God which is " eternal 
life." 

If women should lament it as a disadvantage 
attached to their sex, that their character is of 
so delicate a texture as to be sullied by the 
slightest breath of calumny, and that the stain 
once received is indelible ; yet are they not led 
by that very circumstance, as if instinctively, 
to shrink from all those irregularities to which 
the loss of character is so certainly expected to 
be attached ; and to shun with keener circum- 
spection the most distant approach towards the 
confines of danger 1 Let them not lament it as 
a hardship, but account it to be a privilege, that 
the delicacy of their sex impels them more scru- 
pulously to avoid the very " appearance of evil :" 
let them not regret that the consciousness of 
their danger serves to secure their purity, by 
placing them at a greater distance, and in a 
more deep entrenchment, from the evil itself. 

Though it be one main object of this little 
work, rather to lower than to raise any desire 
of celebrity in the female heart, yet I would 
awaken it to a just sensibility to honest fame : 
I would call on women to reflect that our reli- 
gion has not only made them heirs to a blessed 
immortality hereafter, but has greatly raised 
them in the scale of being here, by lifting them 
to an importance in society unknown to the 
most polished ages of antiquity. The religion 



COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE SEXES. 241 

of Christ has even bestowed a degree of renown 
on the sex, beyond what any other religion ever 
did. Perhaps there are hardly so many virtu- 
ous women (for I reject the long catalogue 
whom their vices have transferred from oblivion 
to infamy) named in all the pages of Greek or 
Roman history, as are handed down to eternal 
fame, in a few of those short chapters with 
which the great apostle to the Gentiles has con- 
cluded his epistles to his converts. Of " devout 
and honoraole women," the Sacred Scriptures 
record " not a few." Some of the most affect- 
ing scenes, the most interesting transactions, 
and the most touching conversations which are 
recorded of the Saviour of the world, passed 
wjth women. Their examples have supplied 
some of the most eminent instances of faith and 
love. They are the first remarked as having 
" ministered to him of their substance." Theirs 
was the praise of not abandoning their despised 
Redeemer when he was led to execution, and 
tinder all the hopeless circumstances of his ig- 
nominious death ; they appear to have been the 
last attending at his tomb, and the first on the 
morning when he arose from it. Theirs was 
the privilege of receiving the earliest consola- 
tion from their risen Lord : theirs was the honor 
of being first commissioned to announce his 
glorious resurrection. And even to have fur- 
nished heroic confessors, devoted saints, and 
unshrinking martyrs to the church of Christ, 
has not been the exclusive honor of the bolder 
sex. 



21 



242 CONVERSATION. 



CHAPTER XV. 

Conversation.— Hints suggested on the subject. — On the tem- 
pers and dispositions to be introduced in it. — Errors to be 
avoided.— Vanity under various shapes the cause of those 
errors. 

The sexes will naturally desire to appear to 
each other such as each believes the other will 
best like ; their conversation will act recipro- 
cally ; and each sex will wish to appear more 
or less rational, as they perceive it will more or 
less recommend them to the other. It is, there- 
fore, to be regretted that many men, even of dis- 
tinguished sense and learning, are too apt to 
consider the society of ladies as a scene in which 
they are rather to rest their understandings 
than to exercise them ; while ladies, in return, 
are too much addicted to make their court by 
lending themselves to this spirit of trifling ; 
they often avoid making use of what abilities 
they have, and affect to talk below their natural 
and acquired powers of mind ; considering it as 
a tacit and welcome flattery to the understand- 
ing of men, to renounce the exercise of their 
own. 

Now, since taste and principles thus mutual- 
ly operate, men, by keeping up conversation to 
its proper standard, would not only call into ex- 
ercise the powers of mind which women actu- 
ally possess, but would even awaken in them 
new energies which they do not know they pos- 



CONVERSATION. 243 

sess ; and men of sense would find their ac- 
count in doing this, for their own talents would 
be more highly rated by companions who were 
better able to appreciate them, and they would 
be receiving as well as imparting improvement. 
And, on the other hand, if young women found 
it did not often recommend them in the eyes of 
those whom they most wish to please, to be 
frivolous and superficial, they would become 
more sedulous in correcting their own habits. 
Whenever fashionable women indicate a relish 
for instructive conversation, men will not be 
apt to hazard what is vain or unprofitable ; 
much less will they ever presume to bring for- 
ward what is loose or corrupt, where some sig- 
nal has not been previously given, that it will 
be acceptable, or at least that it will be par- 
doned. 

Ladies commonly bring into company minds 
already too much relaxed by petty pursuits, 
rather than overstrained by intense application. 
The littleness of the employments in which 
they are usually engaged, does not so exhaust 
their spirits as to make them stand in need of 
that relaxation from company which severe ap- 
plication or overwhelming business makes requi- 
site for studious or public men. The due con- 
sideration of this circumstance might serve to 
bring the sexes more nearly on a level in soci- 
ety ; and each might meet the other half way : 
for that degree of lively and easy conversation 
which is a necessary refreshment to the learned 
and the busy, would not decrease in pleasant- 
ness by being "made of so rational a cast as 
would yet somewhat raise the minds of women, 



244 CONVERSATION. 

who commonly seek society as a scene of pleas- 
ure, not as a refuge from intense thought or 
exhausting labor. 

It is a disadvantage even to those women 
who keep the best company, that it is unhap- 
pily almost established into a system by the 
other sex, to postpone every thing like instruc- 
tive discourse till the ladies are withdrawn ; 
their retreat serving as a kind of signal for the 
exercise of intellect. And in the few cases in 
which it happens that any important discussion 
takes place in their presence, they are, for the 
most part, considered as having little interest in 
serious subjects. Strong truths, whenever such 
happen to be addressed to them, are either di- 
luted with flattery, or kept back in part, or 
softened to their taste ; or, if the ladies express 
a wish for information on any point, they are 
put off with a compliment, instead of a reason. 
They are reminded of their beauty, when they 
are seeking to inform their understanding; and 
are considered as beings who must be contented 
to behold every thing through a false medium, 
and who are not expected to see and to judge 
of things as they really exist. 

Do we, then, wish to see the ladies, whose 
want of opportunities leaves them so incompe- 
tent on many points, and the modesty of whose 
sex ought never to allow them even to be as 
shining as they are able, — do we wish to see 
them take the lead in metaphysical disqui- 
sitions? Do we wish them to plunge into the 
depths of theological polemics, 

And find no end, in wand'ring mazes lost? 



CONVERSATION. 245 

Do we wish them to revive the animosities of 
the Bangorian controversy,* or to decide the 
process between the Jesuits and the five propo- 
sitions of Jansenius?t Do we wish to enthrone 
them in the professor's chair ? to deliver oracles, 
harangues, and dissertations? to weigh the 
merits of every new production in the scales of 
Quintilian, or to regulate the unities of dramat- 
ic composition by Aristotle's clock ? Or, re- 
nouncing those foreign aids, do we desire to 
behold them vain of a native independence of 
soul, inflated with their original powers, labor- 
ing to strike out sparks of wit, with a restless 
anxiety to shine, which generally fails, and with 
an anxious affectation to please, which never 
pleases ? 

Diseurs de bon mots, fades caracteres ! 

All this be far from them ! But we do wish to 
see the conversation of well-bred women res- 
cued from vapid common-place, from uninter- 
esting tattle, from trite and hackneyed com- 
munications, from frivolous earnestness, from 
false sensibility, from a warm interest about 
things of no moment, and an indifference to 

* In the year 1715, Dr. Benjamin Hoadley, Bishop of Bangor, 
preached before George the First, at the chapel royal, a sermon 
on our Lord's words, "My kingdom is not of this world." In 
this discourse the prelate reduced the power of the church to the 
lowest degree, and made it wholly dependent on the state. This 
dogma excited a zealous controversy, which took its name from 
the episcopal title of the divine with whom the dispute arose — Ed. 

t Cornelius Jansenius, bishop of Ypres, born at Lierdam. in 
Holland, in 1585, and died in 1638. The work which has given 
celebrity to his name appeared in 1640, with the title of" Augus- 
tinus," because it contains a system of that <ireat father's opin- 
ions on the doctrine of grace. The propositions in this book 
were opposed by the Jesuits, and condemned by pope Urban. 
They were, however, espoused and defended by a zealous party, 
who obtained the name of Jansenists. — Ed. 



246 CONVERSATION. 

topics the most important ; from a cold vanity, 
from the ill-concealed overflowings of self-love, 
exhibiting itself under the smiling mask of an 
engaging flattery, and from all the factitious 
manners of artificial intercourse. We do wish 
to see the time passed in polished and intelli- 
gent society, considered among the beneficial, 
as well as the pleasant portions of our existence, 
and not consigned over, as it too frequently is, 
to premeditated trifling, to empty dulness, to 
unmeaning levity, to systematic unprofitable- 
ness. Let me not, however, be misunderstood : 
it is not meant to prescribe that ladies should 
affect to discuss lofty subjects, so much as to 
suggest that they should bring good sense, sim- 
plicity, precision, and truth, to the discussion 
of those common subjects, of which, after all, 
both the business and the conversation of man- 
kind must be in a great measure made up. It 
is too well known how much the dread of im- 
puted pedantry keeps off every thing that verges 
towards learned, and the terror of imputed en- 
thusiasm frightens away any that approaches to 
serious conversation ; so that the two topics 
which peculiarly distinguish us as rational and 
immortal beings, are, by general consent, in a 
good degree banished from the society of ra- 
tional and immortal creatures. But we might 
almost as consistently give up the comforts of 
fire because a few persons have been burnt, 
and the benefit of water because some others 
have been drowned, as relinquish the enjoy- 
ments of intellectual, and the blessings of re- 
ligious intercourse, because the learned world 
has sometimes been infested with pedants, and 
the religious world with fanatics. 



CONVERSATION. 247 

As, in the momentous times in which we 
live, it is next to impossible to pass an evening 
in company, but the talk will so inevitably re- 
vert to politics, that, without any premeditated 
design, every one present shall infallibly be 
able to find out to which side the other in- 
clines ; why, in the far higher concern of eter- 
nal things, should we so carefully shun every 
offered opportunity of bearing even a casual 
testimony to the part we espouse in religion 1 
Why, while we make it a sort of point of con- 
science to leave no doubt on the mind of a 
stranger, whether we adopt the party of Pitt or 
Fox', shall we choose to leave it very problem- 
atical whether we belong to God or Baal ? 
Why, in religion, as well as in politics, should 
we not act like people who, having their all at 
stake, cannot forbear now and then adverting 
for a moment to the object of their grand 
concern, and dropping, at least, an incidental 
intimation of the side to which they belong? 

Even the news of the day, in such an event- 
ful period as the present, may lend frequent 
occasions to a woman of principle to declare, 
without parade, her faith in a moral Governor 
of the world ; her trust in a particular provi- 
dence : her belief in the divine omnipotence ; 
her confidence in the power of God, in educing 
good from evil, in his employing wicked na- 
tions, not as favorites, but instruments ; her 
persuasion that present success is no proof of 
the divine favor; in short, some intimation that 
she is not. ashamed to declare that her mind is 
under the influence of Christian faith ; that she 
is steadily governed by an unalterable princi- 



248 CONVERSATION. 

pie, of which no authority is too great to make 
her ashamed, which no occasion is too trivial 
to call into exercise. A general concurrence 
in habitually exhibiting this spirit of decided 
faith and holy trust, would inconceivably dis- 
courage that pert and wakeful infidelity which 
is ever on the watch to produce itself; and, 
as we have already observed^ if women, who 
derive authority from their rank or talents, did 
but reflect how their sentiments are repeated, 
and how their authority is quoted, they would 
be so on their guard, that general society might 
become a scene of profitable communication 
and common improvement; and the young, 
who are looking for models on which to fashion 
themselves, would become ashamed and afraid 
of exhibiting any thing like levity, or skepti- 
cism, or profaneness. 

Let it be understood, that it is not meant to 
intimate that serious subjects should make up 
the bulk of conversation ; this, as it is impos- 
sible, would also often be improper. It is not 
intended to suggest that they should be abrupt- 
ly introduced, or unsuitably prolonged ; but 
only that they should not be systematically 
shunned, nor the brand of fanaticism be fixed 
on the person who, with whatever propriety, 
hazards the introduction of such subjects. It 
is evident, however, that this general dread of 
serious topics arises a good deal from an igno- 
rance of the true nature of Christianity : people 
avoid it on the principle expressed by the vul- 
gar phrase of the danger of playing with edge 
tools. They conceive of religion as something 
which involves controversy and dispute ; some- 



CONVERSATION. 249 

thing either melancholy or mischievous ; some- 
thing of an inflammatory nature, which is to 
stir up ill humors and hatred : they consider it 
as a question which has two sides ; as a sort of 
party-business, which sets friends at. variance. 
So much is this notion adopted, that I have 
seen announced two works of considerable 
merit, in which it was stipulated as an attrac- 
tion, that the subject of religion, as being likely 
to excite anger and party distinctions, should 
be carefully excluded. Such is the worldly 
idea of the spirit of that religion, whose direct 
object it was to bring " peace and good will to 
men !" 

Women too little live or converse up to the 
standard of their understandings ; and, how- 
ever we have deprecated affectation or pedantry, 
let it be remembered, that, both in reading and 
conversing, the understanding grains more by 
stretching than stooping. If by exerting itself 
it may not attain to all it desires, yet it will be 
sure to gain something. The mind, by always 
applying itself to objects below its level, con- 
tracts its dimensions, and shrinks itself to the 
size, and lowers itself to the level, of the object 
about which it is conversant ; while the under- 
standing which is active and aspiring, expands 
and raises itself, grows stronger by exercise, 
larger by diffusion, and richer by communi- 
cation. 

But the taste of general society is not favor- 
able to improvement. The seriousness with 
which the most frivolous subjects are agitated, 
and the levity with which the most serious are 
despatched, bear a pretty exact proportion to 



250 CONVERSATION. 

each other. Society, too, is a sort of magic 
lantern ; the scene is perpetually shifting. In 
this incessant chancre we must 

Catch ere she fall, the Cynthia of the minute ; — 

and the fashion of the present minute, evanes- 
cent probably like its rapid precursors, while in 
many it leads to the cultivation of real knowl- 
edge, has also not un frequently led even the 
gay and idle to the affectation of mixing a 
sprinkling of science with the mass of dissipa- 
tion. The ambition of appearing to be well in- 
formed breaks out even in those triflers who 
will not spare time from their pleasurable pur- 
suits sufficient for acquiring that knowledge, of 
which, however, the reputation is so desirable. 
A little smattering of philosophy often dignifies 
the pursuits of their day, without rescuing them 
from the vanities of the night. A course of 
lectures (that admirable assistant for enlighten- 
ing the understanding) is not seldom resorted 
to as a means to substitute the appearance of 
knowledge for the fatigue of application. But 
where this valuable help is attended merely 
like any other public exhibition, as a fashion- 
able pursuit, and is not furthered by corres- 
pondent reading at home, it often serves to set 
off the reality of ignorance with the affectation 
of skill. But instead of producing in conver- 
sation a few feign in 2 scientific terms with a 
familiarity and readiness, which 

Amaze the unlearn'd, and make the learned smile, 

would it not be more modest even for those 
who are better informed, to avoid the common 



CONVERSATION. 251 

use of technical terms, whenever the idea can 
be as well conveyed without them? For it 
argues no real ability to know the names of 
tools — the ability lies in knowing their use ; 
and while it is in the thing, and not in the 
term, that real knowledge consists, the charge 
of pedantry is attached to the use of the term, 
which would not attach to the knowledge of 
the science. 

In the faculty of speaking well, ladies have 
such a happy promptitude of turning their slen- 
der advantages to account, that there are many, 
who, though they have never been taught a rule 
of syntax, yet, by a quick facility in profiting 
from the best books and the best company, 
hardly ever violate one ; and who often exhibit 
an elegant and perspicuous arrangement of 
style, without having studied any of the laws of 
composition. Every kind of knowledge which 
appears to be the result of observation, reflec- 
tion, and natural taste, sits gracefully on woman. 
Yet, on the other hand, it sometimes happens, 
that ladies of no contemptible natural parts are 
too ready to produce, not only pedantic expres- 
sions, but crude and unfounded notions; and still 
oftener to bring forward obvious and hackneyed 
remarks, which float on the very surface of a 
subject, with the imposing air of recent inven- 
tion, and all the vanity of conscious discovery. 
This is because their acquirements have not 
been worked into their minds by early instruc- 
tion : what knowledge they have gotten stands 
out as it were above the very surface of their 
minds, like the appliquee of the embroiderer, 
instead of having been interwoven with the 



252 CONVERSATION. 

growth of the piece, so as to have become a 
part of the stuff. They did not, like men, ac- 
quire what they know while the texture was 
forming. Perhaps no better preventive could 
be devised for this literary vanity, than early 
instruction : that woman would be less likely to 
be vain of her knowledge, who did not remem- 
ber the time when she was ignorant. Knowl- 
edge that is burnt in, if I may so speak, is sel- 
dom obtrusive, rarely impertinent. 

Their reading also has probably consisted 
much in abridgments from larger works, as was 
observed in a former chapter; this makes a 
readier talker, but a shallower thinker, than 
the perusal of books of more bulk. By these 
scanty sketches, their critical spirit has been 
excited, while their critical powers have not 
been formed ; for in those crippled mutilations 
they have seen nothing of that just proportion 
of parts, that skilful arrangement of the plan, 
and that artful distribution of the subject, 
which, while they prove the master hand of the 
writer, serve also to form the taste of the 
reader, far more than a disjointed skeleton, or 
a beautiful feature or two, can do. The in- 
struction of woman is also too much drawn 
from the scanty and penurious sources of short 
writings of the essay kind : this, when it com- 
prises the best part of a person's reading, makes 
a smatterer and spoils a scholar ; for though it 
supplies current talk, yet it does not make a 
full mind ; it does not furnish a storehouse of 
materials to stock the understanding, neither 
does it accustom the mind to any trains of re- 
flection ; for the subjects, besides, being each 



CONVERSATION. 253 

succinctly, and, on account of this brevity, su- 
perficially treated, are distinct and disconnect- 
ed : they arise out of no concatenation of ideas, 
nor any dependent series of deduction. Yet 
on this pleasant but desultory reading, the mind 
which has not been trained to severer exercise, 
loves to repose itself in a sort of credible indo- 
lence, instead of stretching its energies in the 
wholesome labor of consecutive investigation.* 
I am not discouraging study at a late period 
of life, or even censuring slender knowledge ; 
information is good, at whatever period and in 
whatever degree it be acquired. But in such 
cases it should be attended with peculiar hu- 
mility ; and the new possessor should bear in 
mind, that what is fresh to her has been long 
known to others ; and she should therefore be- 
ware of advancing as novel that which is com- 
mon, and obtruding as rare that which every 
body possesses. Some ladies are eager to ex- 
hibit proofs of their reading, though at the ex- 
pense of their judgment, and will introduce in 
conversation quotations quite irrelevant to the 
matter in hand, because they happen at the in- 
stant to recur to their recollection, or were, 
perhaps, found in the book they have just been 
reading. Unappropriate quotations or strained 
analogy may show reading ; but they do not 
show taste. That just and happy allusion 
which knows by a word how to awaken a cor- 

* The writer cannot be supposed desirous of depreciating the 
value of those many beautiful periodical essays which adorn our 
language. But, perhaps, it might be better to regale the mind 
with them singly, at different times, than to read, at the same 
sitting, a multitude of short pieces on dissimilar and unconnected 
topics, by way of getting through the book. 

22* 



254 CONVERSATION. 

responding image, or to excite in the hearer 
the idea which fills the mind of the speaker, 
shows less pedantry and more taste than bare 
citations ; and a mind imbued with elegant 
knowledge will inevitably betray the opulence 
of its resources, even on topics which do not 
relate to science or literature. It is the union 
of parts and acquirements, of spirit and modes- 
ty, which produces the indefinable charm of 
conversation. Well-informed persons will easily 
be discovered to have read the best books, 
though they are not always detailing lists of 
authors ; for a muster-roll of names may be 
learnt from the catalogue as well as from the 
library. Though honey owes its exquisite taste 
to the fragrance of the sweetest flowers, yet the 
skill of the little artificer appears in this, that 
the delicious stores are so admirably worked 
up, and there is such a due proportion observed 
in mixing them, that the perfection of the whole 
consists in its not tasting individually of the 
rose, the jessamine, the carnation, or any of 
those sweets, of the very essence of all which it 
is compounded. But true judgment will dis- 
cover the infusion which 'true modesty will not 
display ; and even common subjects, passing 
through a cultivated understanding, borrow a 
flavor of its richness. A power of apt selection 
is more valuable than any^power of general re- 
tention ; and an apposite remark, which shoots 
straight to the point, demands a higher capacity 
of mind than a hundred simple acts of memory ; 
for the business of the memory is only to store 
up materials which the understanding is to mix 
and work up with its native faculties, and which 



CONVERSATION. 255 

the judgment is to bring out and apply. But 
young women who have more vivacity than 
sense, and more vanity than vivacity, often risk 
the charge of absurdity to escape that of igno- 
rance, and will even compare two authors who 
are totally unlike, rather than miss the occasion 
to show that they have read both. 

Among the arts to spoil conversation, some 
ladies possess that of suddenly diverting it from 
the channel in which it was beneficially flow- 
ing, because some word used by the person who 
was speaking has accidentally struck out a new 
train of thinking in their own minds, and not 
because the general idea expressed has struck 
out a corresponding idea, which sort of collision 
is indeed the way of eliciting the true fire. 
Young ladies, whose sprightliness has not been 
disciplined by a correct education, consider 
how things may be prettily said, rather than 
how they may be prudently or seasonably 
spoken ; and willingly hazard being thought 
wrong, or rash, or vain, for the chance of being 
reckoned pleasant. The graces of rhetoric 
captivate them more than the justest deductions 
of reason : when they have no arms, they use 
flowers ; and, to repel an argument, they arm 
themselves with a metaphor. Those also who 
do not aim so high as eloquence, are often sur- 
prised that you refuse to accept of a prejudice 
instead of a reason ; they are apt to take up 
with a probability instead of a demonstration, 
and cheaply put you off with an assertion when 
you are requiring a proof. The mode of edu- 
cation which renders them light in assumption, 
and superficial in reasoning, renders them also 



256 CONVERSATION. 

impatient of opposition ; and if they happen to 
possess beauty, and to be vain of it, they may 
be tempted to consider that this is an ad- 
ditional proof of their being always in the 
right. In this case, they will not ask you to 
submit your judgment to the force of their 
argument, so much as to the authority of their 
charms. 

The same fault in the mind, strengthened by 
the same error (a neglected education,) leads 
lively women often to pronounce on a question 
without examining it : on any given point, they 
seldomer doubt than men ; not because they 
are more clear-sighted, but because they have 
not been accustomed to look into a subject long 
enough to discover its depths and its intri- 
cacies; and not discerning its difficulties, they 
conclude that it has none. Is it a contradic- 
tion to say, that they seem at once to be quick- 
sighted and short-sighted 1 What they see at 
all, they commonly see at once ; a little diffi- 
culty discourages them ; and having caught a 
hasty glimpse of a subject, they rush to this 
conclusion, that either there is no more to be 
seen, or that what is behind will not pay them 
for the trouble of searching. They pursue 
their object eagerly, but not regularly ; rapidly, 
but not pertinaciously ; for they want that ob- 
stinate patience of investigation which grows 
stouter by repulse. What they have not at- 
tained, they do not believe exists ; what they 
cannot seize at once, they persuade themselves 
is not worth having. 

Is a subject of moment started in company ? 
While the more sagacious are deliberating on 



CONVERSATION. 257 

its difficulties, and viewing it under all its as- 
pects, in order to form a competent judgment 
before they decide, you will often find the most 
superficial woman present determine the matter 
without hesitation. Not seeing the perplexities 
in which the question is involved, she wonders 
at the want of penetration in the man whose 
very penetration keeps him silent. She se- 
cretly despises the dull perception and slow de- 
cision of him who is patiently untying the knot 
which she fancies she exhibits more dexterity 
by cutting. By this shallow sprightliness, of 
which vanity is commonly the radical principle, 
the most ignorant person in the company leads 
the conversation ; while he whose opinion was 
best worth having, is discouraged from deliver- 
ing it, and an important subject is dismissed 
without discussion, by inconsequent flippancy 
and voluble rashness. It is this abundance of 
florid talk, from superficial matter, which has 
brought on so many of the sex the charge of 
inverting the apostle's precept, and being swift 
to speak, sloic to hear. 

If the great Roman orator could observe, 
that silence was so important a part of conver- 
sation, that "there was not only an art but 
an eloquence in it," how peculiarly does the 
remark apply to the modesty of youthful fe- 
males ! But the silence of listless and vapid 
ignorance, and the animated silence of spark- 
liner intelligence, are two things almost as obvi- 
ously distinct, as the wisdom and folly of the 
tongue. An inviolable and marked attention 
may show that a woman is pleased with a sub- 
ject, and an illuminated countenance may prove 



258 CONVERSATION. 

that she understands it, almost as unequivocally 
as language itself could do ; and this, with a 
modest question, which indicates at once ra- 
tional curiosity and becoming diffidence, is in 
many cases as large a share of the conversation 
as it is decorous for feminine delicacy to take. 
It is also as flattering an encouragement as men 
of sense and politeness require, for pursuing 
useful topics in the presence of women, which 
they would be more disposed to do, did they 
oftener gain by it the attention which it is nat- 
ural to wish to excite, and did women them- 
selves discover that desire of improvement 
which liberal-minded men are pleased with 
communicating. 

Yet, do we not sometimes see an impatience 
to be heard (nor is it a feminine failing only) 
which good breeding can scarcely subdue? 
And even when these incorrigible talkers are 
compelled to be quiet, is it not evident that 
they are not silent because they are listening to 
what is said, but because they are thinking 
of what they themselves shall say when they 
can seize the first lucky interval, for which 
they are so narrowly watching ? The very turn 
of their countenance betrays that they do not 
take the slightest degree of interest in any thing 
that is said by others, except with a view to lie 
in wait for any little chasm in the discourse, on 
which they may lay hold, and give vent to 
their own overflowing vanity. 

But conversation must not be considered as 
a stage for the display of our talents, so much 
as a field for the exercise and improvement of 
our virtues ; as a means for promoting the glory 



CONVERSATION. 259 

of our Creator, and the good and happiness of 
our fellow-creatures. Well-bred and intelligent 
Christians are not, when they join in society, to 
consider themselves as entering the lists like 
intellectual prize-fighters, in order to exhibit 
their own vigor and dexterity, to discomfit their 
adversary, and to bear away the palm of vic- 
tory. Truth and not triumph should be the in- 
variable object ; and there are few occasions in 
life, in which we are more unremittingly called 
upon to watch ourselves narrowly, and to resist 
the assaults of various temptations, than in con- 
versation. Vanity, jealousy, envy, misrepresen- 
tation, resentment, disdain, levity, impatience, 
insincerity, and pride, will in turn solicit to be 
gratified. Constantly to struggle against the 
desire of being thought more wise, more witty, 
and more knowing than those with whom we 
associate, demands the incessant exertion of 
Christian vigilance ; a vigilance which the gen- 
erality are far from suspecting to be at all 
necessary in the intercourse of common society. 
On the contrary, cheerful conversation is rather 
considered as an exemption and release from 
watchfulness, than as an additional obligation 
to it. But a circumspect soldier of Christ will 
never be off his post : even when he is not 
called to public combat by the open assaults of 
his great spiritual enemy, he must still be act- 
ing as a sentinel ; for the dangers of an ordi- 
nary Christian will arise more from these little 
skirmishes which are daily happening in the 
warfare of human life, than from those pitched 
battles which more rarely occur, and for which 
he will probably think it sufficient to be armed. 



260 CONVERSATION. 

But society, as was observed before, is not a 
stage on which to throw down our gauntlet, 
and prove our own prowess by the number of 
falls we give to our adversary ; so far from it, 
true good-breeding, as well as Christianity, con- 
siders as an indispensable requisite for conver- 
sation, the disposition to bring forward to notice 
any talent in others, which their own modesty, 
or conscious inferiority, would lead them to 
keep back. To do this with effect, requires a 
penetration exercised to discern merit, and a 
generous candor which delights in drawing it 
out. There are few who cannot converse toler- 
ably on some one topic ; what that is, we should 
try to discover, and, in general, introduce that 
topic, though to the suppression of any one on 
which we ourselves are supposed to excel : and, 
however superior we may be in other respects 
to the persons in question, we may, perhaps, in 
that particular point, improve by them ; or, if 
we do not gain information, we shall at least 
gain a wholesome exercise to our humility and 
self-denial ; we shall be restraining our own 
impetuosity ; we shall, if we take this course 
on just occasions only, and so as to beware lest 
we gratify the vanity of others, be giving con- 
fidence to a doubting, or cheerfulness to a de- 
pressed spirit. And to place a just remark, 
hazarded by the diffident, in the most advan- 
tageous point of view ; to call the attention 
of the inattentive, the forward, and the self- 
sufficient, to the unobtrusive merit of some 
quiet person in the company, who, though of 
much worth, is perhaps of little note; these are 
requisites for conversation, less brilliant, but far 



CONVERSATION. 261 

more valuable, than the power of exciting bursts 
of laughter by the brightest wit, or of extorting 
admiration by the most poignant sallies of 
ridicule. 

Wit is, of all the qualities of the female mind, 
that which requires the severest castigation ; 
yet the temperate exercise of this fascinating 
quality throws an additional lustre round the 
character of an amiable woman ; for, to manage 
with discreet modesty a dangerous talent, con- 
fers a higher praise than can be claimed by 
those from whom the absence of the talent re- 
moves the temptation to misemploy it. To 
women, wit is a peculiarly perilous possession, 
which nothing short of the sober-mindedness of 
religion can keep in subjection ; and, perhaps, 
there is scarcely any one order of human beings 
that requires the powerful curb of Christian 
control more than women whose genius has this 
tendency. Intemperate wit craves admiration 
as its natural aliment ; it lives on flattery as its 
daily bread. The professed wit is a hungry 
beggar, subsisting on the extorted alms of per- 
petual panegyric ; and, like the vulture in the 
Grecian fable, the appetite increases by indul- 
gence. Simple truth and sober approbation 
becomes tasteless and insipid to the palate daily 
vitiated by the delicious poignances of exagger- 
ated commendation. Under the above restric- 
tions, however, wit may be safely and pleasantly 
exercised ; for chastised wit is an elegant and 
well-bred, and not unfeminine quality. But 
humor, especially if it degenerate into imitation, 
or mimicry, is very sparingly to be ventured 
on ; for it is so difficult totally to detach it from 
23 ~ 



262 CONVERSATION. 

the suspicion of buffoonery, that a woman will 
be likely to lose more of that delicacy which is 
her appropriate grace, and without which, every 
other quality loses its charm, than she will gain 
in another way, in the eyes of the judicious, by 
the most successful display of humor. 

A woman of genius, if she have true humil- 
ity, will not despise those lesser arts which she 
may not happen to possess, even though she be 
sometimes put to the trial of having her superior 
mental endowments overlooked, while she is 
held cheap for being destitute of some more 
ordinary accomplishment. Though the rebuke 
of Themistocles* was just to one who thought 
that so great a general and politician should 
employ his time like an effeminate lutinist, yet 
he would probably have made a different answer, 
if he had happened to understand music. 

If it be true that some women are too apt to 
affect brilliancy and display in their own dis- 
course, and to undervalue the more humble 
pretensions of less showy characters, it must be 
confessed, also, that some of more ordinary 
abilities are now and then guilty of the opposite 
error, and foolishly affect to value themselves 
on not making use of the understanding they 
really possess, and affect to be thought even 
more silly than they are. They exhibit no 
small satisfaction in ridiculing women of high 
intellectual endowments, while they exclaim, 
with much affected humility, and much real 
envy, that "they are thankful they are not 

* "Can you play on the Intel" said a certain Athenian to 
Themistocles, " No," replied he, " but 1 can make a little village 
a great city." 



CONVERSATION. 263 

geniuses." Now, though we are glad to hear 
gratitude expressed on any occasion, yet the 
want of sense is really no such great mercy to 
be thankful for ; and it would indicate a better 
spirit, were they to pray to be enabled to make 
a right use of the moderate understanding they 
possess, than to expose, with a too visible pleas- 
ure, the imaginary or real defects of their more 
shining acquaintance. Women of the brightest 
faculties should not only "bear those faculties 
meekly," but should consider it as no deroga- 
gation, cheerfully to fulfil those humbler offices 
which make up the business and the duties of 
common life, while they should always take 
into the account the nobler exertions, as well as 
the higher responsibility; attached to higher, 
gifts. In the mean time, women of lower at- 
tainments should exert to the utmost such abil- 
ities as Providence has assigned them ; and, 
while they should not deride excellences which 
are above their reach, they should not despond 
at an inferiority which did not depend on them- 
selves ; nor, because God has denied them ten 
talents, should they forget that they are equally 
responsible for the one he has allotted them, 
but set about devoting that one with humble 
diligence to the glory of the Giver. 

Vanity, however, is not the monopoly of tal- 
ents. Let not a young lady, therefore, fancy 
that she is humble, because she is not ingen- 
ious, or consider the absence of talents as the 
criterion of worth. Humility is not the exclu- 
sive privilege of dulness. Folly is as conceited 
as wit, and ignorance many a time outstrips 
knowledge in the race of vanity. Equally 



264 CONVERSATION. 

earnest competitions spring from causes less 
worthy to excite them than wit and genius. 
Vanity insinuates itself into the female heart 
under a variety of unsuspected forms, and is on 
the watch to enter it by seizing on many a little 
pass which was not thought worth guarding. 

Who has not seen as restless emotion agitate 
the features of an anxious matron, while peace 
and fame hung trembling in doubtful suspense 
on the success of a soup or sauce, on which 
sentence was about to be pronounced by some 
consummate critic, as could have been excited 
by any competition for literary renown, or any 
struggle for contested wit 1 Anxiety for fame 
is by no means measured by the real value of 
the object pursued, but by the degree of esti- 
mation in which it is held by the pursuer. 
Nor was the illustrious hero of Greece more 
effectually hindered from sleeping by the 
trophies of Miltiades, than many a modish 
damsel by the eclipsing superiority of some 
newer decoration exhibited by her more suc- 
cessful friend. 

There is another species of vanity in some 
women, which disguises itself under the thin 
veil of an affected humility ; they will accuse 
themselves of some fault from which they are 
remarkably exempt, and lament the want of 
some talent which they are rather notorious for 
possessing. Now, though the wisest are com- 
monly the most humble, and those who are 
freest from faults are most forward in confessing 
error, yet the practice we are censuring is not 
only a clumsy trap for praise, but there is a dis- 
ingenuous intention, by renouncing a quality 



CONVERSATION. 265 

they eminently possess, to gain credit for others 
in which they are really deficient. AH affecta- 
tion involves a species of deceit. The apostle, 
when he enjoins, " not to think of ourselves 
more highly than we ought," does not exhort 
us to think falsely of ourselves^ but to think 
"soberly;" and it is worth observing, that in 
this injunction he does not use the word speak t 
but think ; inferring possibly that it would be 
safer to speak little of ourselves, or not at all ; 
for it is so far from being an unequivocal proof 
of our humility, to talk even of our defects, that 
while we make self the subject, in whatever 
way, self-love contrives to be gratified, and will 
even be content that our faults should be talked 
of, rather than that we should not be talked of 
at all. Some are also attacked with such proud 
fits of humility, that while they are ready to ac- 
cuse themselves of almost every sin in the lump, 
they yet take fire at the imputation of the slight- 
est individual fault ; and instantly enter upon 
their own vindication as warmly, as if you, and 
not themselves, had brought forward the charge. 
The truth is, they ventured to condemn them- 
selves, in the full confidence that you would 
contradict their self accusation : the last thing 
they intended was, that you should believe 
them ; and they are never so much piqued and 
disappointed as when they are taken at. their 
word. 

Of the various shapes and undefined forms 
into which vanity branches out in conversation, 
there is no end. Out of a restless desire to 
please, grows the vain desire to astonish ; for 
from vanity, as much as from credulity, arises 
23* 



266 CONVERSATION. 

that strong love of the marvellous, with which 
the conversation of the ill-educated abounds. 
Hence that fondness for dealing in narratives 
hardly within the compass of possibility. Here 
vanity has many shades of gratification ; those 
shades will be stronger or weaker, whether the 
relater chance to have been an eye-witness of 
the wonder she recounts, or whether she claim 
only the second-hand renown of its having hap- 
pened to her friend, or the still remoter celeb- 
rity of its having been witnessed only by her 
friend's friend : but, even though that friend 
only knew the man, who remembered the 
woman, who conversed with the person, who 
actually beheld the thing which is now causing 
admiration in the company, still self] though in 
a fainter degree, is brought into notice, and the 
relater contrives, in some circuitous and distant 
way, to be connected with the wonder. 

To correct this propensity " to elevate and 
surprise,"* it would be well in mixed society 
to abstain altogether from hazarding stories, 
which, though they may not be absolutely false, 
yet, lying without the verge of probability, are 
apt to impeach the credit of the narrator ; in 
whom the very consciousness that she is not 
believed, excites an increased eagerness to de- 
part still farther from the soberness of truth, 
and induces a habit of vehement asseveration, 
which is too often called in, to help out a ques- 
tionable point. f Or, if the propensity be irre- 

* The Rehearsal. 

| This is also a good rule in composition. An event, though 
it may actually have happened, yet if it be out of the reach of 
probability, or contrary to the common course of nature, will sel- 
dom be chosen as a subject by a writer of good taste ; for he 



CONVERSATION. 267 

sistible, I would recommend to those persons 
who are much addicted to relate doubtful, or 
improbable, or wonderful circumstances, to imi- 
tate the example of the two great naturalists, 
Aristotle and Boyle, who, not being willing to 
discredit their works with incredible relations, 
threw all their improbabilities into a lump, 
under the general name of strange reports. 
May we not suspect that, in some instances, 
the chapter of strange reports would be a bulky 
one ? 

There is another shape, and a very deformed 
shape it is, in which loquacious vanity shows 
itself: I mean, the betraying of confidence. 
Though the act be treacherous, yet the fault, in 
the first instance, is not treachery, but vanity. 
It does not so often spring; from the mischievous 
desire of divulging a secret, as from the pride 
of having been trusted with it. It is the secret 
inclination of mixing self with whatever is im- 
portant. The secret would be of little value, 
if the revealing it did not serve to intimate our 
connection with it ; the pleasure of its having 
been deposited with us would be nothing, if 
others may not know that it has been so depos- 
ited. When we continue to see the variety of 
serious evils which this principle involves, shall 
we persist in asserting that vanity is a slender 
mischief? 

There is one offence committed in conversa- 
tion, of much too serious a nature to be over- 
looked, or to be animadverted on without sor- 

knows that a probable fiction will interest the feelings more than 
an unlikely truth. Yersimiliuide is indeed the poet's truth, but 
the truth of the moralist is of a more sturdy growth. 



268 CONVERSATION. 

row and indignation : I mean, the habitual and 
thoughtless profaneness of those who are re- 
peatedly invoking their Maker's name on occa- 
sions the most trivial. It is offensive in all its 
variety of aspects — it is very pernicious in its 
effects — it is a growing evil---those who are 
most guilty of it are, from habit, hardly con- 
scious when they do it ; are not aware of the 
sin ; and, for both these reasons, without the 
admonitions of faithful friendship, are little 
likely to discontinue it. It is utterly inex- 
cusable ; it has none of the palliatives of temp- 
tation which other vices plead, and, in that 
respect, stands distinguished from all others, 
both in its nature and degree of guilt. Like 
many other sins, however, it is at once cause 
and effect ; it proceeds from want of love and 
reverence to the best of Beings, and causes the 
want of that love both in themselves and others. 
Yet, with all those aggravations, there is, per- 
haps, hardly any sin so frequently committed, 
so slightly censured, so seldom repented of, and 
so little guarded against. On the score of im- 
propriety, too, it is additionally offensive, as 
being utterly repugnant to female delicacy, 
which often does not see the turpitude of this 
sin, while it affects to be shocked at swearing 
in a man. Now, this species of profaneness is 
not only swearing, but, perhaps, in some re- 
spect, swearing of the worst sort ; as it is a 
direct breach of an express command, and 
offends against the very letter of that law which 
says, in so many words, Tuou shaet not take 

THE NAME OF THE LoRD THY GoD IN VAIN. 

It offends against politeness and good breed- 



CONVERSATION. 269 

ing ; for those who commit it, little think of 
the pain they are inflicting on the sober mind, 
which is deeply wounded when it hears the 
holy Name it loves, dishonored ; and it is as 
contrary to good breeding to give pain, as it is 
to true piety to be profane. It is astonishing 
that the refined and elegant should not repro- 
bate this practice for its coarseness and vulgar- 
ity, as much as the pious abhor it for its 
sinfulness. 

I would endeavor to give some faint idea of 
the grossness of this offence, by an analogy (O ! 
how inadequate !) with which the feeling heart, 
even though not seasoned with religion, may 
yet be touched. To such I would earnestly 
say, Suppose you had some beloved friend — to 
put the case still more strongly, a departed 
friend — a revered parent, perhaps — whose im- 
age never occurs without awaking in your 
bosom sentiments of tender love and lively 
gratitude ; how would you feel, if you heard 
this honored name bandied about with unfeel- 
ing familiarity and indecent levity ; or, at best, 
thrust into every pause of speech, as a vulgar 
expletive 1 Does not your affectionate heart 
recoil at the thought? And yet the hallowed 
name of your truest benefactor, your heavenly 
Father, your best Friend, to whom you are in- 
debted for all you enjoy ; who gives you those 
very friends in whom you so much delight, 
those very talents with which you dishonor him, 
those very organs of speech with which you 
blaspheme him, is treated with an irreverence, 
a contempt, a wantonness, with which you can- 
not bear the very thought or mention of treat- 



270 CONVERSATION. 

ing a human friend.- His name is impiously, is 
unfeelingly, is ungratefully singled out as the 
object of decided irreverence, of systematic 
contempt, of thoughtless levity. His sacred 
name is used indiscriminately to express anger, 
joy, grief, surprise, impatience; and, what is 
almost still more unpardonable than all, it is 
wantonly used as a mere unmeaning expletive, 
which, being excited by no temptation, can 
have nothing to extenuate it ; which, causing 
no emotion, can have nothing to recommend it, 
unless it be the pleasure of the sin. 

Among the deep, but less obvious, mischiefs 
of conversation, misrepresentation must not be 
overlooked. Self-love is continually at work, 
to give to all we say a bias in our own favor. 
The counteraction of this fault should be set 
about in the earliest stages of education. If 
young persons have not been discouraged in 
the natural, but evil, propensity to relate every 
dispute they have had with others to their own 
advantage ; if they have not been trained to 
the bounden duty of doing justice even to those 
with whom they are at variance ; if they have 
not been led to aim at a complete impartiality 
in their little narratives, and instructed never 
to take advantage of the absence of the other 
party, in order to make the story lean to their 
own side more than the truth will admit ; how 
shall we, in advanced life, look for correct 
habits, for unprejudiced representations, for 
fidelity, accuracy, and unbiassed justice? 

Yet, how often in society, otherwise respect- 
able, are we pained with narrations in which 
prejudice warps, and self-love blinds ! How 



CONVERSATION. 271 

often do we see, that withholding part of a truth 
answers the worst ends of a falsehood ! how 
often regret the unfair turn given to a cause, 
by placing a sentiment in one point, of view, 
which the speaker had used in another ! the 
letter of truth preserved, where its spirit is vio- 
lated ! a superstitious exactness scrupulously 
maintained in the under-parts of a detail, in 
order to impress such an idea of integrity as 
shall gain credit for the misrepresented while 
he is designedly misstating the leading prin- 
ciple. How may we observe a new character 
given to a fact by a different look, tone, or em- 
phasis, which alters it as much as words could 
have done ! the false impression of. a sermon 
conveyed, when we do not like the preacher, 
or when through him we wish to make religion 
itself ridiculous ! the care to avoid literal un- 
truths, while the mischief is better effected by 
the unfair quotation of a passage divested "of its 
context ! the bringing together detached por- 
tions of a subject, and making those parts ludi- 
crous when connected, which were serious in 
their distinct position ; the -insidious use made 
of a sentiment, by representing it as the opin- 
ion of him who had only brought it forward in 
order to expose it ! the relating opinions which 
had merely been put hypothetically, as if they 
were the avowed principles of him we would 
discredit ! that subtle falsehood which is so 
made to incorporate with a certain quantity 
of truth, that the most skilful moral chemist 
cannot analyze or separate them ! for a good 
misrepresenter knows that- a successful lie must 
have a certain infusion of truth, or it will not 



272 CONVERSATION. 

go down. And this amalgamation is the test of 
his skill ; as too much truth would defeat the 
end of his mischief, and too little would destroy 
the belief of the hearer. All that indefinable 
ambiguity and equivocation ; all that prudent 
deceit, which is rather implied than expressed ; 
those more delicate artifices of the school of 
Loyola and of Chesterfield, which allow us, 
when we dare not deny a truth, yet so to dis- 
guise and discolor it, that the truth we relate 
shall not resemble the truth we heard ! These s 
and all the thousand shades of simulation and 
dissimulation, will be carefully guarded against, 
in the conversation of vigilant Christians. 

Again ; it is surprising to mark the common 
deviations from strict veracity which spring, not 
from enmity to truth, not from intentional de- 
ceit, not from malevolence or envy, not from 
the least design to injure ; but from mere levity, 
habitual inattention, and a current notion that 
it is not worth while to be correct in small 
things. But here the doctrine of habits comes 
in with great force, and in that view no error is 
small. The cure of this disease in its more in- 
veterate stages being next to impossible, its 
prevention ought to be one of the earliest ob- 
jects of education. * 

Some women indulge themselves in sharp 
raillery, unfeeling wit, and cutting sarcasms, 
from the consciousness, it is to be feared, that 
they are secure from the danger of being called 
to account; this license of speech being en- 
couraged by the very circumstance which ought 

* See the chapter on the Use of Definitions. 



CONVERSATION. 273 

to suppress it. To be severe, because they can 
be so with impunity, is a most ungenerous rea- 
son. It is taking a base and dishonorable ad- 
vantage of their sex, the weakness of which, 
instead of tempting them to commit offences 
because they can commit them with safety, 
ought rather to make them more scrupulously 
careful to avoid indiscretions for which no rep- 
aration can be demanded. What can be said 
for those who carelessly involve the injured 
paity in consequences from which they know 
themselves are exempted, and whose very sense 
of their own security leads them to be indiffer- 
ent to the security of others ? 

The grievous fault of gross and obvious de- 
traction which infects conversation, has been 
so heavily and so justly condemned by divines 
and moralists, that the subject, copious as it is, 
is exhausted. But there is an error of an oppo- 
site complexion, which we have before noticed, 
and against which the peculiar temper of the 
times requires that young ladies of a better cast 
should be guarded. From the narrowness of 
their own sphere of observation, they are some- 
times addicted to accuse of uncharitableness, 
that distinguishing judgment which, resulting 
from a sound penetration and a zeal for truth, 
forbids persons of a very correct principle to 
be indiscriminately prodigal of commendation, 
without inquiry, and without distinction. There 
is an affectation of candor, which is almost as 
mischievous as calumny itself; nay, if it be less 
injurious in its individual application, it is, per- 
haps, more alarming in its general principle, as 
it lays waste the strong fences which separate 
24 



274 CONVERSATION. 

good from evil. They know, as a general prin- 
ciple (though they sometimes calumniate), that 
calumny is wrong ;. but they have not been told 
that .flattery is wrong also ; and youth being apt 
to fancy that the direct contrary to wrong must 
necessarily be right, are apt to be driven into 
violent extremes. The dread of being only 
suspected of one fault, makes them actually 
guilty of the opposite ; and to avoid the charge 
of harshness or of envy, they plunge into insin- 
cerity and falsehood. In this they are actuated 
either by an unsound judgment which does not 
see what is right, or an unsound principle 
which prefers what is wrong. Some also com- 
mend, to conceal envy ; and others are com- 
passionate, to indulge superiority. 

In this age of high-minded independence, 
when our youth are apt to set up for themselves, 
and every man is too much disposed to be his 
own legislator, without looking to the estab- 
lished law of the land as his standard ; and to 
set up for his own divine, without looking to 
the revealed will of God as his rule ; by a can- 
dor equally vicious with our vanity, we are also 
complaisantly led to give the latitude we take ; 
and it is become too frequent a .practice in our 
tolerating young ladies, when speaking of their 
more erring and misled acquaintance, to offer 
for them this flimsy vindication, " that what 
they do is right, if it appear right to them ;" — 
" if they see the thing in that light, and act up 
to it with sincerity, they cannot be materially 
wrong." But-the standard of truth, justice, and 
religion must neither be elevated nor depressed, 
in order to accommo.date it to actual circum- 



CONVERSATION. 275 

stances ; it must never be lowered, to palliate 
error, to justify folly, or to vindicate vice. 
Good-natured young people often speak favor- 
ably of unworthy, or extravagantly of common 
characters, from one of these motives ; either 
their own views of excellence are low, or they 
speak respectfully of the undeserving, to pur- 
chase for themselves the reputation of tender- 
ness and generosity ; or they lavish unsparing 
praise on almost all alike, in the usurious hope 
of buying back universal commendation in re- 
turn ; or in those captivating characters, in 
which the simple and masculine language of 
truth is sacrificed to the jargon of affected soft- 
ness ; and in which smooth and pliant manners 
are substituted for intrinsic worth, the inexpe- 
rienced are too apt to suppose virtues, and to 
forgive vices. But they, should carefully guard 
against the error of making manner the crite- 
rion of merit, and of giving unlimited credit to 
strangers for possessing every perfection, only 
because they bring into company the engaging 
exterior of urbanity and alluring gentleness. 
They should also remember that it is an easy, 
but not an honest way. of obtaining the praise of 
candor, to get into the soft and popular habit of 
saying of all their acquaintance, when speaking 
of them, that they are so good ! True Christian 
candor conceals faults; but it does not invent 
virtues. It tenderly forbears to expose the evil 
which may belong to a character ; but it dares 
not ascribe to it the good which does not exist. 
To. correct this propensity to false judgment 
and insincerity, it would be well to bear in 
mind, that while every good action, come from 



276 CONVERSATION. 

what source it may, and every good quality, be 
it found in whomsoever it will, deserves its fair 
proportion of distinct and willing commenda- 
tion ; yet no character is good, in the true 
sense of the word, which is not religious. 

In fine — to recapitulate what has been said, 
with some additional hints : — Study to promote 
both intellectual and moral improvement in 
conversation ; labor to bring into it a disposi- 
tion to bear with others, and to be watchful 
over yourself ; keep out of sight any prominent 
talent of your own, wJiich, if indulged, might 
discourage or oppress the feeble-minded ; and 
try to bring their modest virtues into notice. 
If you know any one present to possess any 
particular weakness or infirmity, never exercise 
your wit by maliciously inventing occasions 
which may lead her to expose or betray it ; but 
give as favorable a turn as you can to the follies 
which appear, and kindly help her to keep the 
rest out of sight. Never gratify your own hu- 
mor, by hazarding what you suspect may wound 
any present in their persons, connections, pro- 
fessions in life, or religious opinions; and do 
not forget to examine whether the laugh your 
wit has raised be never bought at this expense. 
Give credit to those who, without your kind- 
ness, will get none : do not talk at any one 
whom you dare not talk to, unless from motives 
in which the golden rule will bear you out. 
Seek neither to shine nor to triumph; and if 
you seek to please, take care that it be in order 
to convert the influence you may gain by pleas- 
ing, to the good of others. Cultivate true po- 
liteness, for it grows out of true principle, and 



CONVERSATION. 277 

is consistent with the gospel of Christ ; but 
avoid those feigned attentions which are not 
stimulated by good will, and those stated pro- 
fessions of fondness which are not dictated by 
esteem. Remember that the pleasure of being 
thought amiable by strangers, may be too 
dearly purchased, if it be purchased at the ex- 
pense of truth and simplicity ; remember that 
simplicity is the first charm in manner, as truth 
is in mind ; and could truth make herself vis- 
ible, she would appear invested in simplicity. 

•Remember also, that true Christian good- 
nature is the soul, of which politeness is only 
the garb. It is not that artificial quality which 
is taken up by many when they go into society, 
in order to charm those whom it is not their 
particular business to please, and is laid down 
when they return home to those to whom to 
appear amiable is a real duty. It is not that 
fascinating but deceitful softness, which, after 
having acted over a hundred scenes of the most 
lively sympathy and tender interest with every 
slight acquaintance ; after having exhausted 
every phrase of feeling, for the trivial sicknesses 
or petty sorrows of multitudes who are scarcely 
known, leaves it doubtful whether a grain of 
real feeling or genuine sympathy be reserved 
for the dearest connection ; and which dismisses 
a woman to her immediate friends with little 
affection, and to her own family with little 
attachment. 

True good-nature, that which alone deserves 
the name, is not a holiday ornament, but an 
every-day habit. It does not consist in servile 
24* 



278 CONVERSATION. 

complaisance, or dishonest flattery, or affected 
sympathy, or unqualified assent, or unwarrant- 
able compliance, or eternal smiles. Before it 
can be allowed to rank with the virtues, it must 
be wrought up from a humor into a principle, 
from an occasional disposition into a habit. It 
must be the result of an equal and well-governed 
mind, not the start of casual gayety, the trick of 
designing vanity, or the whim of capricious 
fondness. It is compounded of kindness, for- 
bearance, forgiveness, and self-denial : " it 
seeketh not its own," but is capable of making 
continual sacrifices of its own tastes, humors, 
and self-love; yet knows that among the sacri- 
fices it makes, it must never include its integ- 
rity. Politeness on the one hand, and insensi- 
bility on the other, assume its name, and wear 
its honors ; but they assume the honors of a 
triumph, without the merit of a victory ; for po- 
liteness subdues nothing, and insensibility has 
nothing to subdue. Good-nature, of the true 
cast, and under the foregoing regulations, is 
above all price in the common intercourse of 
domestic society ; for an ordinary quality, which 
is constantly brought into action by the perpet- 
ually-recurring though minute events of daily 
life, is of higher value than more brilliant qual- 
ities which are less frequently called into use ; 
as small pieces of ordinary current coin are of 
more importance in the commerce of the world 
than the medals of the antiquary. And, in- 
deed, Christianity has given that new turn to 
the character of all the virtues, that perhaps it 
is the best test of the excellence of many, that 
they have little brilliancy in them. The Chris- 



ON SENSIBILITY. 279 

fian religion has degraded some splendid quali- 
ties from the rank they held, and elevated those 
which were obscure into distinction. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

On the danger of an ill-directed sensibility. 

In considering the human mind with a view 
to its improvement, it is prudent to endeavor to 
discover the natural bent of the individual cha- 
racter : and having found it, to direct your force 
against that side on which the warp lies, that 
you may lessen by counteraction the defect 
which you might be promoting, by applying 
your aid in a contrary direction. But the mis- 
fortune is, people who mean better than they 
judge are apt to take up a set of general rules, 
good perhaps in themselves, and originally 
gleaned from experience and observation on the 
nature of human things, but not applicable in 
all cases. These rules they keep by them as 
nostrums of universal efficacy, which they there- 
fore often bring out for use in cases to which 
they do not apply. For to make any remedy 
effectual, it is not enough to know the medi- 
cine ; you must study the constitution also : if 
there be not a congruity between the two, you 



280 ON SENSIBILITY. 

may be injuring one patient by the means which 
are requisite to raise and restore another. 

In forming the female character, it is of im- 
portance that those on whom the task devolves 
should possess so much penetration as accurate- 
ly to discern the degree of sensibility, and so 
much judgment as to accommodate the treat- 
ment to the individual character. By constant- 
ly stimulating and extolling feelings naturally 
quick, those feelings will be rendered too acute 
and irritable. On the other hand, a calm and 
equable temper will become obtuse by the total 
want of excitement ; the former treatment con- 
verts the feelings into a source of error, agita- 
tion, and calamity ; the latter starves their na- 
tive energy, deadens the affections, and produces 
a cold, dull, selfish spirit ; for the human mind 
is an instrument which will lose its sweetness if 
strained too high, and will be deprived of its 
tone and strength if not sufficiently raised. 

It is cruel to chill the precious sensibility of 
an ingenuous soul, by treating with supercilious 
coldness and unfeeling ridicule every indica- 
tion of a warm, tender, disinterested, and en- 
thusiastic spirit, as if it exhibited symptoms of 
a deficiency in understanding or in prudence. 
How many are apt to intimate, with a smile of 
mingled pity and contempt, in considering such 
a character, that when she knows the world, 
that is, in other words, when she shall be grown 
cunning, selfish, and suspicious, she will be 
ashamed of her present glow of honest warmth, 
and of her lovely susceptibility of heart. May 
she never know the world, if the knowledge of 
it must be acquired at such an expense ! But to 



ON SENSIBILITY. 281 

sensible hearts, every indication of genuine 
feeling will be dear, for they well know, that it 
is this temper which, by the guidance of the 
divine Spirit, may make her one day become 
more enamored of the beauty of holiness ; which, 
with the cooperation of principle, and under its 
direction, will render her the lively agent of 
Providence in diminishing the misery that is in 
the world ; into which misery this temper will 
give her a quicker intuition than colder charac- 
ters possess. It is this temper which, when it 
is touched and purified by a " live coal from 
the altar,"* will give her a keener taste for the 
spirit of religion, and a quicker zeal in discharg- 
ing its duties. But let it be remembered like- 
wise, that as there is no quality in the female 
character which more raises its tone, so there 
is none which will be so Hkely to endanger the 
peace, and to expose the virtue, of the posses- 
sor ; none which requires to have its luxurian- 
ces more carefully watched, and its wild shoots 
more closely lopped. 

For young women of affections naturally 
warm, but not carefully disciplined, are in dan- 
ger of incurring an unnatural irritability ; and 
while their happiness falls a victim to the excess 
of uncontrolled feelings, they are liable at the 
same time to indulge a vanity of all others the 
most preposterous, that of being vain of their 
very defect. They have heard sensibility high- 
ly commended, without having heard any thing 
of those bounds and fences which were intend- 
ed to confine it, and without having been irn- 

* Isaiah vi, 6. 



'282 ON SENSIBILITY. 

bued with that principle which would have 
given it a beneficial direction. Conscious that 
they possess the quality itself in the extreme, 
and not aware that they want all that makes 
that quality safe and delightful, they plunge 
headlong into those sins and miseries from 
which they conceitedly and ignorantly imagine, 
that not principle, but coldness, has preserved 
the more sober-minded and well-instructed of 
their sex. 

As it would be foreign to the present design 
to expatiate on those criminal excesses which 
are some of the sad effects of ungoverned pas- 
sion, it is only intended here to hazard a few 
remarks on those lighter consequences of it 
which consist in the loss of comfort without 
ruin of character, and occasion the privation of 
much of the happiness of life without involving 
any very censurable degree of guilt or discredit. 
It may, however, be incidentally remarked, and 
let it be carefully remembered, that if no women 
have risen so high in the scale of moral excel- 
lence as those whose natural warmth has been 
conscientiously governed by its true guide, and 
directed to its true end, so none have furnished 
such deplorable instances of extreme depravity 
as those who, through the ignorance or the de- 
reliction of principle, have been abandoned by 
the excess of this very" temper to the violence 
of ungoverned passions and uncontrolled incli- 
nations. Perhaps, if we were to inquire into 
the remote cause of some of the blackest crimes 
which stain the annals of mankind, profligacy, 
murder, and especially suicide, we might trace 
them back to this original principle, an ungov- 
erned sensibility. 



ON SENSIBILITY. 283 

Notwithstanding all the fine theories in prose 
and verse, to which this topic has given birth, 
it will be found that very exquisite sensibility 
contributes so little to happiness, and may yet 
be made to contribute so much to usefulness,' 
that it may, perhaps, be generally considered 
as bestowed for an exercise to the possessor's 
own virtue, and at the same time as a keen in- 
strument with which he may better work for 
the good of others. 

Women of this cast of mind are less careful 
to avoid the charge of unbounded extremes, 
than to escape at all events the imputation of 
insensibility. They are little alarmed at the 
danger of exceeding, though terrified at the 
suspicion of coming short, of what they take to 
be the extreme point of feeling. They will 
even resolve to prove the warmth of their sensi- 
bility, though at the expense of their judgment, 
and sometimes also of their justice. Even when 
they earnestly desire to be and to do good, they 
are apt to employ the wrong instrument to ac- 
complish the right end. They employ the pas- 
sions to do the work of the judgment ; forget- 
ting, or not knowing, that the passions were not 
given us to be used in the search and discovery 
of truth, which is the office of a cooler and 
more discriminating faculty, but to animate to 
warmer zeal in the pursuit and practice of truth, 
when the judgment shall have pointed out what 
is truth. 

Through this natural warmth, which they 
have been justly told is so pleasing, hut which, 
perhaps, they have not 'been told will be con- 
tinually exposing them to peril and to suffering, 



284 ON SENSIBILITY. 

their joys and sorrows are excessive. Of this 
extreme irritability, as was before remarked, 
the ill-educated learn to boast, as if it were a 
decided indication of superiority of soul, instead 
of laboring to restrain it, as the excess of a tem- 
per which ceases to be amiable when it is no 
longer under the control of the governing faculty. 
It is misfortune enough to be born more liable 
to suffer and to sin, from this conformation of 
mind ; it is too much to nourish the evil by un- 
restrained indulgence; it is still worse to be 
proud of so misleading a quality. 

Flippancy, impetuosity, resentment, and vio- 
lence of spirit, grow out of this disposition, 
which will be rather promoted than Corrected 
by the system of education on which we have 
been animadverting ; in which system, emo- 
tions are too early and too much excited, and 
tastes and feelings are considered as too exclu- 
sively making up the whole of the female cha- 
racter ; in which the judgment is little exercis- 
ed, the reasoning powers are seldom brought 
into action, and self-knowledge and self-denial 
scarcely included. 

The propensity of mind which we are con- 
sidering, if unchecked, lays its possessors open 
to unjust prepossessions, and exposes them to 
all the danger of unfounded attachments. In 
early youth, not only love at first sight, but also 
friendship of the same instantaneous growth, 
springs up from an ill-directed sensibility ; and 
in after-life, women, under the powerful influ- 
ence of this temper, conscious that they have 
much to be borne with, are too readily inclined 
to select for their confidential connexions flexible 



ON SENSIBILITY. 285 

and flattering companions, who will indulge and 
perhaps admire their faults, rather than firm 
and honest friends, who will reprove and would 
assist in curing them. We may adopt it as a 
general maxim, that an obliging, weak, yield- 
ing, complaisant friend, full of small attentions, 
with little religion, little judgment, and much 
natural acquiescence and civility, is a most dan- 
gerous, though generally a too much desired 
confidante ; she soothes the indolence, and grati- 
fies the vanity of her friend, by reconciling her 
to her faults, while she neither keeps the un- 
derstanding nor the virtues of that friend in 
exercise, but withholds from her every useful 
truth, which by opening her eyes might give 
her pain. These obsequious qualities are the 
" soft green"* on which the soul loves to repose 
itself. But it is not a refreshing or a whole- 
some repose : we should not select, for the sake 
of present ease, a soothing flatterer, who will 
lull us into a pleasing oblivion of our failings, 
but a friend who, valuing our soul's health above 
our immediate comfort, will rouse us from tor- 
pid indulgence to animation, vigilance, and 
virtue. 

An ill-directed sensibility also leads a woman 
to be injudicious and eccentric in her charities; 
she will be in danger of proportioning her boun- 
ty to the immediate effect which the distressed 
object produces on her senses, and will there- 
fore be more liberal to a small distress, present- 
ing itself to her own eyes, than to the more 
pressing wants and better claims of those mise- 

* Burke's "Sublime and Beautiful." 

25 



286 ON SENSIBILITY. 

ries of which she only hears the relation. There 
is a sort of stage-effect which some; people re- 
quire for their charities ; and such a character 
as we are considering will be apt also to desire 
that the object of her compassion shall have 
something interesting and amiable in. it, such 
as shall furnish pleasing images and lively pic- 
tures to her imagination, and engaging subjects 
for description ; forgetting, that in her chari- 
ties, as well as in every thing else, she is to be 
a " follower of Him who pleased not himself;" 
forgetting, that the most coarse and disgusting 
object may be as much the representative of 
Him who said, " Inasmuch as you do it to one 
of the least of these, ye do it unto me," as the 
most interesting. Nay, the more uninviting 
and repulsive cases may be better tests of the 
principle on which- we relieve, than those which 
abound in pathos and interest, as we can have 
less suspicion of our motive in the latter case 
than in the former. But, while we ought to 
neglect neither of these supposed cases, yet the 
less our feelings are caught by pleasing circum- 
stances, the less will be the danger of our in- 
dulging self-complacency, and the more likely 
shall we be to do what we do for the sake of 
Him who has taught us, that no deeds but what 
are performed on that principle " shall be rec- 
ompensed at the. resurrection of the just." 

But through the want of that governing prin- 
ciple which should direct her sensibility, a ten- 
der-hearted woman, .whose hand, if she be actu- 
ally surrounded with scenes and circumstances 
to call it into action, is 

Open as day to melting charity. 



ON SENSIBILITY. 287 

nevertheless may utterly fail in the great and 
comprehensive duty of Christian love ; for she 
has feelings which are acted upon solely by 
local circumstances and present events. Only 
remove her into another scene, distant from the 
wants she has been relieving ; place her in the 
lap of indulgence, so entrenched with ease and 
pleasure, so immersed in the softness of life, 
that distress no longer finds any access to her 
presence, but through the faint and dull medium 
of a distant representation ; remove her from 
the sight and sound of that misery which, when 
present, so tenderly affected her — she now for- 
gets that misery exists ; as she hears but little, 
and sees nothing of want and sorrow, she is 
ready to fancy that the world is grown happier 
than it was : in the mean time, with a quiet 
conscience and a thoughtless vanity, she has 
been lavishing on superfluities that money which 
she would cheerfully have given to a charitable 
case, had she not forgotten that any such were 
in existence, because pleasure had blocked up 
the avenues through which misery used to find 
its way to her heart ; and now, when again 
such a case forces itself into her presence, she 
laments with real sincerity that the money is 
gone which should have relieved it. 

In the mean time, perhaps, other women of 
less natural sympathy, but whose sympathies are 
under better regulation, or who act from a prin- 
ciple which requires little stimulus, by an ha- 
bitual course of self-denial, by a constant de- 
termination to refuse themselves unnecessary 
indulgences, and by guarding against that dis- 
solving pleasure which melts down the firmest 



288 ON SENSIBILITY. 

virtue that allows itself to bask in its beams, 
been quietly furnishing a regular provision for 
miseries, which their knowledge of the state of 
the world teaches them are every where to be 
found, and which their obedience to the will of 
God tells them it is their duty both to find out 
and to relieve : a general expectation of being 
liable to be called upon for acts of charity, will 
lead the conscientiously charitable always to be 
prepared. 

On such a mind as we have been describing, 
novelty also will operate with peculiar force, 
and in nothing more than in the article of chari- 
ty. Old established institutions, whose con- 
tinued existence must depend on the continued 
bounty of that affluence to which they owed 
their origin, will be sometimes neglected, as 
presenting no variety to the imagination, as 
having by their uniformity ceased to be interest- 
ing : there is now a total failure of those springs 
of mere sensitive feeling which set the charity 
a-going, and those sudden emotions of tender- 
ness and gusts of pity, which were once felt, 
must now be excited by newer forms of distress. 
As age comes on, that charity which has been 
the effect of mere feeling, grows cold and rigid ; 
this hardness is also increased by the frequent 
disappointments charity has experienced in its 
too high expectations of the gratitude and sub- 
sequent merit of those it has relieved ; and by 
withdrawing its bounty, because some of its ob- 
jects have been undeserving, it gives clear proof 
that what it bestowed was for its own gratifica- 
tion ; and now finding that self-complacency at 
an end, it bestows no longer. Probably, too, 



ON SENSIBILITY. 289 

the cause of so much disappointment may have 
been, that ill choice of the objects to which 
feeling, rather than a discriminating judgment, 
has led. The summer showers of mere sensi- 
bility soon dry up, while the living springs of 
Christian charity flows alike in all seasons. 

The impatience, levity, and fickleness, of 
which women have been somewhat too general- 
ly accused, are, perhaps in no small degree, 
aggravated by the littleness and frivolousness of 
female pursuits. The sort of education they 
commonly receive, teaches girls to set a great 
price on small things. Besides this, they do 
not always learn to keep a very correct scale of 
degrees for rating the value of the objects of 
their admiration and attachment, but, by a kind 
of unconscious idolatry, they rather make a 
merit of loving supremely things and persons 
which ought to be loved with moderation, and 
in a subordinate degree the one to the other. 
Unfortunately, they consider moderation as so 
necessarily indicating a cold heart and narrow 
soul, and they look upon a state of indifference 
with so much horror, that either to love or hate 
with energy is supposed by them to proceed 
from a higher state of mind than is possessed 
by more steady and equable characters. Where- 
as it is in fact the criterion of a warm, but well- 
directed sensibility, that while it is capable of 
loving with energy, it must be enabled, by the 
judgment which governs it, to suit and adjust 
its degree of interest to the nature and excel- 
lence of the object about which it is interested ; 
for unreasonable prepossession, disproportionate 
25* 



290 ON SENSIBILITY. 

attachment, and capricious or precarious fond- 
ness, is not sensibility. 

Excessive but unintentional flattery is another 
fault into which a strong sensibility is in danger 
of leading its possessor. A tender heart and a 
warm imagination conspire to throw a sort of 
radiance round the object of their love, till they 
are dazzled by a brightness of their own creat- 
ing. The worldly and fashionable borrow the 
warm language of sensibility without having 
the really warm feeling ; and young ladies get 
such a habit of saying, and especially of writ- 
ing, such over-obliging and flattering things to 
each other, that this mutual politeness, aided by 
the self-love so natural to us all, and by an un- 
willingness to search into our own hearts, keeps 
up the illusion, and we acquire a habit of tak- 
ing our character from the good we hear of our- 
selves, which others assume, but do not very 
well know, rather than from the evil we feel in 
ourselves, and which we, therefore, ought to be 
too thoroughly acquainted with to take our 
opinion of ourselves from what we hear from 
others. 

Ungoverned sensibility is apt to give a wrong 
direction to its anxieties ; and its affection often 
falls short of the true end of friendship. If the 
object of its regard happen to be sick, what in- 
quiries ! what prescriptions ! what an accumu- 
lation is made of cases in which the remedy its 
fondness suggests has been successful ! what an 
unaffected tenderness for the perishing body ! 
Yet is this sensibility equally alive to the im- 
mortal interests of the sufferer 1 Is it not silent 
and at ease when it contemplates the dearest 



ON SENSIBILITY. 291 

friend persisting in opinions essentially danger- 
ous, in practices unquestionably wrong? Does 
it not view all this, not only without a generous 
ardor to point out the peril, and rescue the 
friend ; but if that friend be supposed to be 
dying, does it not even make it the criterion of 
kindness to let her die undeceived as to her 
true state ? What a want of real sensibility, to 
feel for the pain, but not for the danger of those 
we love ! Now, see what sort of sensibility the 
Bible teaches ! " Thou shalt not hate thy 
brother in thine heart, but thou shalt in any 
wise rebuke him, and shalt not suffer sin upon 
him."* But let that tenderness, which shrinks 
from the idea of exposing what it loves to a mo- 
mentary pang, figure to itself the bare possibili- 
ty, that the object of its own fond affection may 
not be the object of the divine favor! Let it 
shrink from the bare conjecture, that " the fa- 
miliar friend, with whom it has taken sweet 
counsel," is going down to the gates of death, 
unrepenting, unprepared, and yet unwarned ! 

But mere human sensibility goes a shorter 
way to work. Not being able to give its friend 
the pain of hearing her faults or of knowing her 
danger, it works itself up into the quieting de- 
lusion that no danger exists, at least not for the 
objects of its own affection ; it gratifies itself by 
inventing a salvation so comprehensive, as shall 
take in all itself loves with all their faults; it 
creates to its own. fond heart an ideal and exag- 
gerated divine mercy, which shall pardon and 
receive all in whom this blind sensibility has an 

* Lev. xix. 17. 



292 ON SENSIBILITY. 

interest, whether they be good or whether they 
be evil. 

In regard to its application to religious pur- 
poses, it is a test that sensibility has received 
its true direction, when it is supremely turned 
to the love of God ; for to possess an overflow- 
ing fondness for our fellow-creatures and fellow- 
sinners, and to be cold and insensible to the 
essence of goodness and perfection, is an incon- 
sistency to which the feeling heart is awfully 
liable. God has himself the first claim to the 
sensibility he bestowed. " He first loved us :" 
this is a natural cause of love. " He loved us 
while we were sinners :" this is a supernatural 
cause. He continues to love us, though we 
neglect his favors and slight his mercies : this 
would wear out any earthly kindness. He for- 
gives us, not petty neglects, not occasional 
slights, but grievous sins, repeated offences, 
broken vows, and unrequited love. What hu- 
man friendship performs offices so calculated 
to touch the soul of sensibility ? 

Those young women in whom feeling is in- 
dulged to the exclusion of reason and examina- 
tion, are peculiarly liable to be the dupes of 
prejudice, rash decisions, and false judgment. 
The understanding having but little power over 
the will, their affections are not well poised, 
and their minds are kept in a state ready to be 
acted upon by the fluctuations of alternate im- 
pulses, by sudden and varying impressions, by 
casual and contradictory circumstances, and by 
emotions excited by every accident. Instead 
of being guided by the broad views of general 
truth — instead of having one fixed principle — 



ON SENSIBILITY. 293 

they are driven on by the impetuosity of the 
moment. And this impetuosity blinds the judg- 
ment as much as it misleads the conduct ; so 
that, for want of a habit of cool investigation 
and inquiry, they meet every want without any 
previously-formed opinion or settled rule of ac- 
tion. And as they do not accustom themselves 
to appreciate the real value of things, their at- 
tention is as likely to be led away by the under 
parts of a subject, as to seize on the leading 
feature. The same eagerness of mind which 
hinders the operation of the discriminating fac- 
ulty, leads also to the error of determining on 
the rectitude of an action by its success, and 
to that of making the event of an undertaking 
decide on its justice or propriety : it also leads 
to that superficial and erroneous way of judg- 
ing, which fastens on exceptions, if they make 
in our own favor, as grounds of reasoning, while 
they lead us to overlook received and general 
rules which tend to establish a doctrine con- 
trary to our wishes. 

Open-hearted, indiscreet girls often pick up 
a few strong notions, which are as false in them- 
selves as they are popular among the class in 
question ; such as, that " warm friends must 
make warm enemies ;" — that " the generous 
love and hate with all their hearts ;" — that " a 
reformed rake makes the best husband ;" — that 
" there is no medium in marriage, but that it is 
a state of exquisite happiness or exquisite mise- 
ry ;" with many other doctrines of equal cur- 
rency and equal soundness ! These they con- 
sider as axioms, and adopt as rules of life. From 
the two first of these oracular sayings, girls are 



294 ON SENSIBILITY. 

in no small danger of becoming unjust through 
the very warmth of their hearts, for they will 
acquire a habit of making their estimate of the 
good or ill qualities of others merely in propor- 
tion to the greater or less degree of kindness 
which they themselves have received from them. 
Their estimation of general character is thus 
formed on insulated and partial grounds ; on 
the accidental circumstance of personal predi- 
lection or personal pique. Kindness to them- 
selves or their friends involves all possible 
excellence ; neglect, all imaginable defects. 
Friendship and gratitude can and should go a 
great way ; but as they cannot convert vice in- 
to virtue, so they ought never to convert truth 
into falsehood. And it may be the more neces- 
sary to be upon our guard, in this instance, be- 
cause the very idea of gratitude may mislead 
us, by converting injustice into the semblance 
of a virtue. Warm expressions should there- 
fore be limited to the conveying a sense of our 
own individual obligations, which are real, rath- 
er than employed to give an impression of gen- 
eral excellence in the person who has obliged 
us, which may be imaginary. A good man is 
still good, though it may not have fallen in his 
way to oblige or serve us; nay, though he may 
have neglected, or even unintentionally hurt us ; 
and sin is still sin, though committed by the per- 
son in the world to whom we are the most 
obliged, and whom we best love. 

There is danger, also, lest our excessive com- 
mendation of our friends, merely as such, may 
be derived from vanity as well as gratitude. 
While we only appear to be triumphing in the 



ON SENSIBILITY. 295 

virtues of our friend, we may be guilty of self- 
complacency : the person so excellent is the 
person who distinguishes us — and we are too 
apt to insert into the general eulogium the dis- 
tinction we ourselves have received from him 
who is himself so much distinguished by others. 

With respect to that fatal and most indeli- 
cate, nay, gross maxim, that " a reformed rake 
makes the best husband" (an aphorism to which 
the principles and the happiness of so many 
young women have been sacrificed,) it goes 
upon the preposterous supposition, not only that 
effects do not follow causes, but that they op- 
pose them ; on the supposition, that habitual 
vice creates rectitude of character, and that sin 
produces happiness ; thus flatly contradicting 
what the moral government of God uniformly 
exhibits in the course of human events, and 
what revelation so evidently and universally 
teaches. 

For it should be observed, that the reforma- 
tion is generally, if not always, supposed to be 
brought about by the all-conquering force of fe- 
male charms. Let but a profligate young man 
have a point to carry, by winning the affections 
of a vain and thoughtless girl ; he will begin 
his attack upon her heart by undermining her 
religious principles, and artfully removing every 
impediment which might have obstructed her 
receiving the addresses of a man without cha- 
racter. And, while he will lead her not to hear 
without ridicule the mention of that change of 
heart which Scripture teaches, and experience 
proves that the power of divine grace can work 
on a vicious character ; while he will teach her 



296 ON SENSIBILITY. 

to sneer at a change which he would treat with 
contempt, because he denies the possibility of 
so strange and miraculous a conversion ; yet he 
will not scruple to swear that the power of her 
beauty has worked a revolution in his own loose 
practices, which is equally complete and instan- 
taneous. 

But, supposing his reformation to be genuine, 
it would even then by no means involve the truth 
of her proposition, that past libertinism insures 
future felicity ; yet many a weak girl, confirm- 
ed in this palatable doctrine by examples she 
has frequently admired of those surprising refor- 
mations so conveniently effected in the last 
scene of most of our comedies, has not scrupled 
to risk her earthly and eternal happiness with a 
man, who is not ashamed to ascribe to the in- 
fluence of her beauty that power of changing 
the heart which he impiously denies to Omnipo- 
tence itself. 

As to the last of these practical aphorisms, 
that " there is no medium in marriage, but that 
it is a state of exquisite happiness, or exquisite 
misery ;" this, though not equally sinful, is 
equally delusive ; for marriage is only one 
modification of human life, and human life is 
not commonly in itself a state of exquisite ex- 
tremes ; but is, for the most part, that mixed 
and moderate state, so naturally dreaded by 
those who set out with fancying this world a 
state of rapture, and so naturally expected by 
those who know it to be a state of probation 
and discipline. Marriage, therefore, is only 
one condition, and often the best condition, of 
that imperfect state of being, which, though sel- 



ON SENSIBILITY. 297 

dom very exquisite, is often very tolerable, and 
which may yield much comfort to those who do 
not look for constant transport. But, unfortu- 
nately, those who find themselves disappointed 
of the unceasing raptures they had anticipated 
in marriage, disdaining to sit down with so poor 
a provision as comfort, and scorning the accept- 
ance of that moderate lot which Providence 
commonly bestows with a view to check des- 
pondency and to repress presumption, give them- 
selves up to the other alternative, and, by aban- 
doning their hearts to discontent, make to 
themselves that misery with which their fervid 
imaginations had filled the opposite scale. 

The truth is, these young ladies are very apt 
to pick up their opinions, less from the divines 
than the poets ; and the poets, though it must 
be confessed they are some of the best embel- 
lishers of life, are not quite the safest conduct- 
ors through it. In travelling through a wilder- 
ness, though we avail ourselves of the harmony 
of singing birds to render the grove delightful, 
yet we never think of following them as guides 
to conduct us through its labyrinths. 

Those women, in whom the natural defects 
of a warm temper have been strengthened by 
an education which fosters their faults, are very 
dextrous in availing themselves of a hint, when 
it favors a ruling inclination, soothes vanity, in- 
dulges indolence, or gratifies their love of pow- 
er. They have heard so often, from their favo- 
rite sentimental authors, and their more flattering 
male friends, " that when nature denied them 
strength, she gave them fascinating graces in 
compensation ; that their strength consists in 
26 



298 ON SENSIBILITY. 

their weakness ;" and that " they are endowed 
with arts of persuasion which supply the absence 
of force, and the place of reason ;" that they 
learn, in time, to pride themselves on that very 
weakness, and to become vain of their imper- 
fections, till at length they begin to claim for 
their defects, not only pardon, but admiration. 
Hence they acquire a habit of cherishing a spe- 
cies of feeling, which, if not checked, termi- 
nates in excessive selfishness ; they learn to 
produce their inability to bear contradiction, as 
a proof of their tenderness; and to indulge in 
that sort of irritability in all that relates to them- 
selves, which inevitably leads to the utter ex- 
clusion of all interest in the sufferings of others. 
Instead of exercising their sensibility in the 
wholesome duty of relieving distress and visit- 
ing scenes of sorrow, that sensibility itself is 
pleaded as a reason for their not being able to 
endure sights of wo, and for shunning the dis- 
tress it should be exerted in removing. That 
exquisite sense of feeling which God implanted 
in the heart as a stimulus to quicken us in re- 
lieving the miseries of others, is thus introvert- 
ed, and learns to consider self not as the agent, 
but the object of compassion. Tenderness is 
made an excuse for being hard-hearted ; and, 
instead of drying the weeping eyes of others, 
this false delicacy reserves its selfish and ready 
tears for the more elegant and less expensive 
sorrows of the melting novel or the pathetic 
tragedy. 

When feeling stimulates only to self-indul- 
gence ; when the more exquisite affections of 
sympathy and pity evaporate in sentiment, in- 



ON SENSIBILITY. 299 

stead of flowing out in active charity, and af- 
fording assistance, protection, or consolation to 
every species of distress within its reach ; it is 
an evidence that the feeling is of a spurious 
kind, and instead of being nourished as an 
amiable tenderness, it should be subdued as a 
fond and base self-love. 

That idleness, to whose cruel inroads many 
women of fortune are unhappily exposed, from 
not having been trained to consider wholesome 
occupation, vigorous exertion, and systematic 
employment, as making part of the indispensa- 
ble duties and pleasures of life, lays them open 
to a thousand evils of this kind, from which the 
useful and the busy are exempted; and, per- 
haps^ it would not be easy to find a more pitia- 
ble object than a woman with a great deal of 
time and a great deal of money on her hands, 
who, never having been taught the conscien- 
tious use of either, squanders both at random, 
or rather moulders both away, without plan, 
without principle, and without pleasure ; all 
whose projects begin and terminate in self; 
who considers the rest of the world only as they 
may be subservient to her gratification ; and to 
whom it never occurred, that both her time and 
money were given for the gratification and good 
of others. 

It is not much to the credit of the other sex, 
that they now and then lend themselves to the 
indulgence of this selfish spirit in their wives, 
and cherish by a kind of false fondness those 
faults which should be combated by good sense 
and a reasonable counteraction ; slothfully pre- 
ferring a little false peace, the purchase of pre- 



300 ON SENSIBILITY. 

carious quiet, and the popular reputation of 
good-nature, to the higher duty of forming the 
mind, fixing the principles, and strengthening 
the character of her with whom they are con- 
nected. Perhaps, too, a little vanity in the hus- 
band helps out his good-nature ; he secretly 
rewards himself for his sacrifice by the con- 
sciousness of his superiority : he feels a self- 
complacency in his patient condescension to 
her weakness, which tacitly flatters his own 
strength ; and he is, as it were, paid for stoop- 
ing, by the increased sense of his own tallness. 
Seeing also, perhaps, but little of other women, 
he is taught to believe that they are all pretty 
much alike, and that, as a man of sense, he 
must content himself with what he takes to be 
the common lot. Whereas, in truth, by his 
misplaced indulgence, he has rather made his 
own lot than drawn it ; and thus, through an 
indolent despair, in the husband, of being able 
to effect any amendment by opposition, and 
through the want of that sound affection which 
labors to improve and exalt the character of its 
object, it happens, that many a helpless, fretful, 
and dawdling wife acquires a more powerful 
ascendency than the most discreet and amiable 
woman ; and that the most absolute female 
tyranny is established by these sickly and capri- 
cious humors. 

The poets again, who, to do them justice, 
are always ready to lend a helping hand when 
any mischief is to be done, have contributed 
their full share towards confirming these femi- 
nine follies : they have strengthened by adula- 
tory maxims, sung in seducing strains, those 



ON SENSIBILITY. 301 

faults which their talents and their influence 
should have been employed in correcting. By 
fair and youthful females an argument, drawn 
from sound experience and real life, is com- 
monly repelled by a stanza or a sonnet ; and a 
couplet is considered as nearly of the same va- 
lidity with a text. When ladies are compli- 
mented with being 

Fine by defect, and delicately weak, 

is not a standard of feebleness held out to them, 
to which vanity will gladly resort, and to which 
softness and indolence can easily act up, or 
rather act down, if I may be allowed the ex- 
pression 1 

When ladies are told, by the same mislead- 
ing, but to them high, authority, that " smiles 
and tears are the irresistible arms with which 
nature has furnished the weak for conquering the 
strong," will they not eagerly fly to this cheap 
and ready artillery, instead of laboring to fur- 
nish themselves with a reasonable mind, an 
equable temper, and a meek and quiet spirit 1 

Every animal is endowed by Providence with 
the peculiar powers adapted to its nature and 
its wants ; while none, except the human, by 
grafting art on natural sagacity, injures or mars 
the gift. Spoiled women, who fancy there is 
something more piquant and alluring in the mu- 
table graces of caprice, than in the monotonous 
smoothness of an even temper; and who also 
having heard much, as was observed before, 
about their " amiable weakness," learn to look 
about them for the best succedaneum to strength, 
the supposed absence of which they sometimes 
26* 



302 ON SENSIBILITY. 

endeavor to supply by artifice. By this engine, 
the weakest woman frequently furnishes the 
converse to the famous reply of the French 
minister, who, when he was accused of govern- 
ing the mind of that feeble queen, Mary de 
Medicis, by sorcery, replied, " that the only sor- 
cery he had used, was that influence which 
strong minds naturally have over weak ones." 

But though it be fair so to study the tempers, 
defects, and weaknesses of others, as to convert 
our knowledge of them to the promotion of their 
benefit and our own ; and though it be making 
a lawful use of our penetration to avail ourselves 
of others for " their good to edification ;" yet 
all deviations from the straight line of truth and 
simplicity, every plot insidiously to turn influ- 
ence to unfair account, all contrivances to ex- 
tort from a bribed complaisance what reason 
and justice would refuse to our wishes ; these 
are some of the operations of that lowest and 
most despicable engine, selfish cunning, by 
which little minds sometimes govern great ones. 

And, unfortunately, women, from their natu- 
ral desire to please, and from their sometimes 
doubting by what means this grand end may be 
best effected, are in more danger of being led 
into dissimulation than men ; for dissimulation 
is the result of weakness ; it is the refuge of 
doubt and distrust, rather than of conscious 
strength, the dangers of which lie another way. 
Frankness, truth, and simplicity, therefore, as 
they are inexpressibly charming, so are they 
peculiarly commendable, in women ; and nobly 
evince that while the possessors of them wish 
to please (and why should they not wish it ?) 



ON SENSIBILITY. 303 

they disdain to have recourse to any thing but 
what is fair, and just, and honorable, to effect 
it ; that they scorn to attain the most desired 
end by any but the most lawful means. The 
beauty of simplicity is indeed so intimately felt, 
and generally acknowledged by all who have a 
true taste for personal, moral, or intellectual 
beauty, that women of the deepest dissimula- 
tion often find their account in assuming an 
exterior the most foreign to their character, and 
exhibiting; the most encasing; naivete. It is 
curious to see how much art they put in prac- 
tice in order to appear natural; and the deep 
design which is set at work to display simplicity. 
And, indeed, this feigned simplicity is the most 
mischievous, because the most engaging, of all 
the Proteus forms which artifice can put on. 
For the most free and bold sentiments have 
been sometimes hazarded with fatal success 
under this unsuspected mask. And an inno- 
cent, quiet, indolent, artless manner has been 
adopted as the most refined and successful ac- 
companiment of sentiments, ideas, and designs, 
neither artless, quiet, nor innocent. 



304 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

CHAPTER XVII. 

On dissipation and the modern habits of fashionable life. 

Perhaps the interests of true friendship, ele- 
gant conversation, mental improvement, social 
pleasure, maternal duty, and conjugal comfort, 
never received such a blow as when fashion 
issued out that arbitrary and universal decree, 
that " every body must be acquainted with every 
body ;" together with that consequent, authori- 
tative, but rather inconvenient clause, that 
" every body must also go every where every 
night." The implicit and devout obedience 
paid to this law is incompatible with the very 
being of friendship ; for as the circle of ac- 
quaintance expands, — and it will be continually 
expanding, — the affections will be beaten out 
into such thin laminae as to leave little solidity 
remaining. The heart which is continually ex- 
hausting itself in professions grows cold and 
hard. The feelings of kindness diminish in 
proportion as the expression of it becomes more 
diffuse and indiscriminate. The very traces of 
" simplicity and godly sincerity," in a delicate 
female, wear away imperceptibly by constant 
collision with the world at large. And perhaps 
no woman takes so little interest in the happi- 
ness of her real friends, as she whose affections 
are incessantly evaporating in universal civili- 
ties; as she who is saying fond and flattering 
things at random to a circle of five hundred 
people every night. 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 305 

The decline and fail of animated and instruc- 
tive conversation has been in a good measure 
effected by this barbarous project of assembling 
en masse. An excellent prelate,* with whose 
friendship the author was long honored, and 
who himself excelled in the art of conversation, 
used to remark, that a few years had brought 
about a great revolution in the manners of so- 
ciety ; that it used to be the custom, previously 
to going into company, to think that something 
was to be -communicated or received, taught 
or learned ; that the powers of the understand- 
ing were expected to be brought into exercise, 
and that it was therefore necessary to quicken 
the mind, by reading and thinking, for the 
share the individual might be expected to take 
in the general discourse ; but that now, knowl- 
edge, and taste, and wit, and erudition, seemed 
to be scarcely considered as necessary materials 
to be brought into the pleasurable commerce of 
the world ; because now there was little chance 
of turning them to much account; and, there- 
fore, he who possessed them, and he who pos- 
sessed them not, were nearly on a footing. 

It is obvious also that multitudinous assem- 
blies are so little favorable to that cheerfulness 
which it should seem to be their very end to 
promote, that if there were any chemical pro- 
cess by which the quantum of spirits, animal or 
intellectual, could be ascertained, the diminu- 
tion would be found to have been inconceivably 
great, since the transformation of man and wo- 
man from a social to a gregarious animal. 

* The late Bishop Home. 



306 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

But if it be true that friendship, society, and 
cheerfulness have sustained so much injury by 
this change of manners, how much more point- 
edly does the remark apply to family happiness ! 

Notwithstanding the known fluctuation of 
manners and the mutability of language, could 
it be foreseen, when the apostle Paul exhorted 
" married women to be keepers at home" that 
the time would arrive, when that very phrase 
would be selected to designate one of the most 
decided acts of dissipation ? Could it be fore- 
seen that when a fine lady should send out a 
notification that on such a night she shall be 
at home, these two significant words (besides 
intimating the rarity of the thing) would pre- 
sent to the mind an image the most undomestic 
which language can convey 1 Could it be an- 
ticipated that the event of one lady's being at 
home could only be effected by the universal 
concurrence of all her acquaintance to be 
abroad 1 that so simple an act should require 
such complicated cooperation ? and that the re- 
port that one person would be found in her own 
house should operate with such an electric force 
as to empty the houses of all her friends ? 

My country readers, who may require to have 
it explained that these two magnetic words, at 
home, now possess the powerful influence of 
drawing together every thing fine within the 
sphere of their attraction, may need also to be 
apprized, that the guests afterwards are not 
asked what was said by the company, but wheth- 
er the crowd was prodigious ; the rule for de- 
ciding on the merit of a fashionable society not 
being by the taste or the spirit, but by the score 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 307 

and the hundred. The question of pleasure, 
like a parliamentary question, is now carried by 
numbers. And when two parties modish, like 
two parties political, are run one against an- 
other on the same night, the same kind of mor- 
tification attends the leader of a defeated mi- 
nority, the same triumph attends the exulting 
carrier of superior numbers, in the one case as 
in the other. The scale of enjoyment is rated 
by the measure of fatigue, and the quantity of 
inconvenience furnishes the standard of gratifi- 
cation : the smallness of the dimensions to which 
each person is limited on account of the multi- 
tudes which must divide among them a certain 
given space, adds to the sum total of general 
delight ; the aggregate of pleasure is produced 
by the proportion of individual suffering ; and 
not till every guest feels herself in the state of 
a cat in an exhausted receiver, does the delight- 
ed hostess attain the consummation of that re- 
nown which is derived from such overflowing 
rooms as shall throw all her competitors at a dis- 
graceful distance. 

An eminent divine has said, that either 
" perseverance in prayer will make a man leave 
off sinning, or a continuance in sin will make 
him leave off prayer." This remark may be 
accommodated to those ladies who, while they 
are devoted to the enjoyments of the world, yet 
retain considerable solicitude for the instruction 
of their daughters. But if they are really in 
earnest to give them a Christian education, they 
must themselves renounce a dissipated life. Or 
if they resolve to pursue the chase of pleasure, 
they must renounce this prime duty. Contra- 



308 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

ries cannot unite. The moral nurture of a tall 
daughter can no more be administered by a 
mother whose time is absorbed by crowds 
abroad, than the physical nurture of her infant 
offspring can be supplied by her in a perpetual 
absence from home. And is not that a prepos- 
terous affection, which, after leading a mother 
to devote a few months to the inferior duty of 
furnishing aliment to the mere animal life, al- 
lows her to desert her post when the more im- 
portant moral and intellectual cravings require 
sustenance? This great object is not to be 
effected with the shreds and parings rounded 
off from the circle of a dissipated life; but in 
order to its adequate execution, the mother 
should carry it on with the same spirit and per- 
severance at home, which the father thinks it 
necessary to be exerting abroad in his public 
duty or professional engagements. 

The usual vindication (and in theory it has a 
plausible sound) which has been offered for the 
large portion of time spent by women in acquir- 
ing ornamental talents is, that they are calcu- 
lated to make the possessor love home, and that 
they innocently fill up the hours of leisure. 
The plea has, indeed, so promising an appear- 
ance, that it is worth inquiring whether it be in 
fact true. Do we then, on fairly pursuing the 
inquiry, discover that those who have spent 
most time in such light acquisitions, are really 
remarkable for loving home, or staying quietly 
there? or that when there, they are sedulous in 
turning time to the best account? I speak not 
of that rational and respectable class of women, 
who, applying (as many of them do) these ele- 



MODERN HABITS OP LIFE. 309 

gant talents to their true purpose, employ them 
to fill up the vacancies of better occupations, 
and to embellish the leisure of a life actively 
good. But do we generally see that even the 
most valuable and sober part of the reicmino- 
female acquisitions leads their possessor to 
scenes most favorable to the enjoyment of them ? 
to scenes which we should naturally suppose 
she would seek, in order to the more effectual 
cultivation of such rational pleasures 1 To 
learn to endure, to enjoy, and to adorn solitude, 
seems to be one great end for bestowing accom- 
plishments, instead of making them the motive 
for hurrying those who have acquired them into 
crowds, in order for their most effectual display. 

Would not those delightful pursuits, botany 
and drawing, for instance, seem likely to court 
the fields, the woods, and gardens of the pater- 
nal seat, as more congenial to their nature, and 
more appropriate to their exercise, than barren 
watering-places, destitute of a tree, or an herb, 
or a flower, and not affording an hour's interval 
from successive pleasures, to profit by the scene, 
even if it abounded with the whole vegetable 
world, from the '•' cedar of Lebanon to the hys- 
sop on the wall ?" 

From the mention of watering-places, may 
the author be allowed to suggest a few remarks 
on the evils which have arisen from the general 
conspiracy of the gay to usurp the regions of 
the sick ; and from their converting the health- 
restoring fountains, meant as a refuge for dis- 
ease, into the resorts of vanity for those who 
have no disease but idleness 1 

This inability of staying at home, as it is one 
27 



310 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

of the most infallible, so it is one of the most 
dangerous symptoms of the reigning mania. It 
would be . more tolerable, did this epidemic 
malady only break out, as formerly, during the 
winter, or some one season. Heretofore, the 
tenantry and the poor, the natural dependants 
on the rural mansions of the opulent, had some 
definite period to which they might joyfully 
look forward for the approach of those patrons, 
part of whose business in life it is to influence 
by their presence, to instruct by their example, 
to soothe by their kindness, and to assist by 
their liberality, those whom Providence, in the 
distribution of human lots, has placed under 
their more immediate protection. Though it 
would be far from truth to assert, that dissipated 
people are never charitable, yet I will venture 
to say, that dissipation is inconsistent with the 
spirit of charity. That affecting precept, fol- 
lowed by so gracious a promise, " Never turn 
away thy face from any poor man, and then the 
face of the Lord shall never be turned away 
from thee," cannot literally mean that we should 
give to all, as then we should soon have noth- 
ing left to give : but it seems to intimate the 
habitual attention, the duty of inquiring out all 
cases of distress, in order to judge which are 
fit to be relieved ; now, for this inquiry, for this 
attention, for this sympathy, the dissipated have 
little taste, and less leisure. 

Let a reasonable conjecture (for calculation 
would fail) be made of how large a diminution 
of the general good has been effected in this 
single respect, by causes which, though they 
do not seem important in themselves, yet make 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 311 

no inconsiderable part of the mischief arising 
from modern manners ; and I speak now to 
persons who intend to be charitable ; what a 
deduction will be made from the aggregate of 
charity, by a circumstance apparently trifling, 
when we consider what would be the beneficial 
effects of that regular bounty which must almost 
unavoidably result from the evening walks of a 
great and benevolent family among the cottages 
of their own domain ; the thousand little acts 
of, comparatively, unexpensive kindness which 
the sight of petty wants and difficulties would 
excite ; wants which will scarcely be felt in the 
relation ; and which will probably be neither 
seen, nor felt, nor fairly represented, in their 
long absences, by an agent. And what is even 
almost more than the good done, is the habit of 
mind kept up in those who do it. Would not 
this habit, exercised on the Christian principle, 
that " even a cup of cold water," given upon 
right motives, shall not lose its reward ; while 
the giving " all their goods to feed the poor," 
without the true jrrinciple of charity, shall profit 
them nothing ; would not this habit, I say, and 
the inculcation of the spirit which produces it, 
be almost the best part of the education of 
daughters ?* 

* It would be a pleasant summer amusement for our young la- 
dies of fortune, if they were to preside at such spinning feasts as 
are instituted at Nuneham for the promotion of virtue and indus- 
try in their own sex. Pleasurable anniversaries of this kind 
would serve to combine in the minds of the poor two ideas which 
ought never to be separated, but which they are not very forward 
to unite — that the great wish to make them happij as well as 
good. Occasional approximations of the rich and poor, for the 
purposes of relief and instruction, and annual meetings for the 
purpose of innocent pleasure, would do much towards wearing 
away discontent ; and the conviction that the rich really take an 



312 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

Transplant the wealthy and bountiful family, 
periodically, to the frivolous and uninteresting 
bustle of the watering-place ; there it is not de- 
nied that frequent public and fashionable acts 
of charity may make a part (and it is well they 
do) of the business and amusement of the day; 
with this latter, indeed, they are sometimes 
good-naturedly mixed up. But how shall we 
compare the regular, systematical good these per- 
sons would be doing at their own home, with the 
light, and amusing, and bustling bounties of the 
public place ? The illegal raffle at the toy-shop 
may relieve, it is true, some distress; but this 
distress, though it may be real, — and if real it 
oufht to be relieved, — -is far less easily ascer- 
tained than the wants of the poor round a per- 
son's own neighborhood, or the debts of a dis- 
tressed tenant. How shall we compare the 
broad stream of bounty which should be flow- 
ing through and refreshing whole districts, with 
the penurious current of the subscription break- 
fast fpr the needy musician, in which the price 
of the gift is taken out in the diversion, and in 
which pleasure dignifies itself with the name of 
bounty ? How shall we compare the attention, 
and time, and zeal, which would otherwise, 
perhaps be devoted to the village-school, spent 
in hawking about benefit tickets for a broken 
player, while the kindness of the benefactress, 
perhaps, is rewarded by scenes in which her 
charity is not always repaid by the purity of the 
exhibition 'I 

interest in their comfort, would contribute to reconcile the lower 
class to that state in which it has pleased God to place them. 
[The spinning feasts here mentioned were instituted at Nuneham 
Park, in Oxfordshire, by that excellent Christian lady, the late 
Countess of Harcourt. —Ed.] 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 313 

Far be it from the author to wish to check 
the full tide of charity, wherever it is disposed 
to flow ! Would she could multiply the already 
abundant streams, and behold every source pu- 
rified ! But in the public resorts there are 
many who are able and willing to give. In the 
sequestered, though populous village, there is, 
perhaps, only one affluent family : the distress 
which they do not behold, will probably not be 
attended to : the distress which they do not re- 
lieve, will probably not be relieved at all : the 
wrongs which they do not redress, will go un- 
redressed : the oppressed whom they do not 
rescue, will sink under the tyranny of the op- 
pressor. Through their own rural domains, 
too, charity runs in a clearer current, and is 
under less suspicion of being polluted by that 
muddy tincture which it is sometimes apt to 
contract in passing through the impure soil of 
the world. 

But to return from this too long digression. 
The old standing objection formerly brought 
forward by the prejudices of the other sex, and 
too eagerly laid hold on as a shelter for indo- 
lence and ignorance by ours, was, that intellec- 
tual accomplishments too much absorbed the 
thoughts and affections, took women off from 
the necessary attention to domestic duties, and 
superinduced a contempt or neglect of what- 
ever was useful. It is peculiarly the character 
of the present day to detect absurd opinions, 
and expose plausible theories by the simple and 
decisive answer of experiment ; and it is pre- 
sumed that this popular error, as well as oth- 
ers, is daily receiving the refutation of actual 
27* 



314 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

experience. For it cannot, surely, be main- 
tained on ground that is any longer tenable, 
that acquirements truly rational are calculated 
to draw oft' the mind from real duties. What- 
ever removes prejudices, whatever stimulates 
industry, whatever rectifies the judgment, what- 
ever corrects self-conceit, whatever purifies the 
taste and raises the understanding, will be like- 
ly to contribute to moral excellence : to woman 
moral excellence is the grand object of educa- 
tion ; and of moral excellence, domestic life is 
to woman the proper sphere. 

Count over the list of females who have made 
shipwreck of their fame and virtue, and have 
furnished the most lamentable examples of the 
dereliction of family duties, and the number 
will not be found considerable who have been 
led astray by the pursuit of knowledge. And, 
if a few deplorable instances of this kind be 
produced, it will commonly be found that there 
was little infusion in the minds of such women 
of that correcting principle without which all 
other knowledge only " puffeth up." 

The time nightly expended in late female 
vigils is expended by the light of far other lamps 
than those which are fed by the student's oil ; 
and if families are to be found who are neglect- 
ed through too much study in the mistress, it 
will probably be proved to be Hoyle, and not 
Homer, who has robbed her children of her time 
and affections. For one family which has been 
neglected by the mother's passion for books, a 
hundred have been deserted through her pas- 
sion for play. The husband of a fashionable 
woman will not often find that the library is the 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 315 

apartment, the expenses of which involve him in 
debt or disgrace. And for one literary slattern, 
who now manifests her indifference to her hus- 
band by the neglect of her person, there are 
scores of elegant spendthrifts who ruin theirs 
by excess of decoration. 

May I digress a little, while I remark, that I 
am far from asserting that literature has never 
filled women with vanity and self-conceit : the 
contrary is too obvious : and it happens in this, 
as in other cases, that a few characters, con- 
spicuously absurd, have served to bring a whole 
order into ridicule. But I will assert, that in 
general, those whom books are supposed to 
have spoiled, would have been spoiled in 
another way without them. She who is a vain 
pedant because she has read much, has proba- 
bly that defect in her mind which would have 
made her a vain fool if she had read nothing. 
It is not her having; more knowledge, but less 
sense, which makes her insufferable ; and ig- 
norance would have added little to her value, 
for it is not what she has, but what she wants, 
which makes her unpleasant. The truth, how- 
ever, probably lies here, that while her under- 
standing was improved, the tempers of her heart 
were neglected, and that in cultivating the 
fame of a savante, she lost the humility of a 
Christian. But these instances, too, furnish 
only a fresh argument for the general cultiva- 
tion of the female mind. The wider diffusion 
of sound knowledge would remove that tempta- 
tion to be vain, which may be excited by its 
rarity. 

From the union of an unfurnished mind and 



316 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

a cold heart there results a kind of necessity for 
dissipation. The very term gives an idea of 
mental imbecility. That which a working and 
fatigued mind requires is relaxation ; it requires 
something to unbend itself, to slacken its efforts, 
to relieve it from its exertions ; while amuse- 
ment is the business of feeble minds, and is 
carried on with a length and seriousness incom- 
patible with the refreshing idea of relaxation. 
There is scarcely any one thing which comes 
under the description of public amusement, 
which does not fill the space of three or four 
hours nightly. Is not that a large proportion 
of refreshment for a mind, which, generally 
speaking, has hardly been kept so many hours 
together on the stretch in the morning, by 
business, by study, by devotion ? 

But while we would assert that a woman of a 
cultivated intellect is not driven by the same 
necessity as others into the giddy whirl of pub- 
lic resort, who but regrets that real cultivation 
does not inevitably preserve her from it ? No 
wonder that inanity of character, that vacuity 
of mind, that torpid ignorance, should plunge 
into dissipation as their natural refuge ; should 
seek to bury their insignificance in the crowd 
of pressing multitudes, and hope to escape 
analysis and detection in the undistinguished 
masses of mixed assemblies ! There attrition 
rubs all bodies smooth, and makes all surfaces 
alike ; thither superficial and external accom- 
plishments naturally fly as to their proper scene 
of action ; as to a field where competition in 
such perfections is in perpetual exercise ; where 
the laurels of admiration are to be won ; whence 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 317 

the trophies of vanity may be carried off tri- 
umphantly. 

It would indeed be matter of little compara- 
tive regret, if this corrupt air were breathed 
only by those whose natural element it seems 
to be ; but who can forbear lamenting that the 
power of fashion attracts into this impure and 
unwholesome atmosphere, minds also of a better 
make, of higher aims and ends, of more ethe- 
real temper ? that it attracts even those who, 
renouncing enjoyments for which they have a 
genuine taste, and which would make them 
really happy, neglect society they love, and 
pursuits they admire, in order that they may 
seem happy, and be fashionable in the chase of 
pleasures they despise, and in company they 
disapprove ! But no correctness of taste, no 
depth of knowledge, will infallibly preserve a 
woman from this contagion, unless her heart be 
impressed with a deep Christian conviction that 
she is accountable for the application of knowl- 
edge as well as for the dedication of time. 
Perhaps if there be any one principle which 
should more sedulously than another be worked 
into the youthful mind, it is the doctrine of 
particular as well as general responsibility. 

The contagion of dissipated manners is so 
deep, so wide, and fatal, that if I were called 
upon to assign the predominant cause of the 
greater part of the misfortunes and corruptions 
of the great and gay in our days, I should not 
look for it principally in any obviously great or 
striking circumstance ; not in the practice of 
notorious vices, not originally in the dereliction 
of Christian principle ; but I should without 



318 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

hesitation ascribe it to a growing, regular, sys- 
tematic series of amusements ; to an incessant, 
boundless, and not very disreputable Dissipa- 
tion. Other corruptions, though more formi- 
dable in appearance, are yet less fatal in some 
respects, because they leave us intervals to re- 
flect on their turpitude, and spirit to lament 
their excesses ; but dissipation is the more 
hopeless, as by engrossing almost the entire 
life, and enervating the whole moral and intel- 
lectual system, it leaves neither time for reflec- 
tion, nor space for self-examination, nor temper 
for the cherishing of right affections, nor leisure 
for the operation of sound principles, nor inter- 
val for regret, nor vigor to resist temptation, 
nor energy to struggle for amendment. 

The great master of the science of pleasure 
among the ancients, who reduced it into a sys- 
tem, which he called the chief good of man, 
directed that there should be interval enough 
between the succession of delights, to sharpen 
inclination, and accordingly instituted periodi- 
cal days of abstinence ; well knowing that grat- 
ification was best promoted by previous self- 
denial. But so little do our votaries of fashion 
understand the true nature of pleasure, that one 
amusement is allowed to overtake another with- 
out any interval, either for recollection of the 
past, or preparation for the future. Even on 
their own selfish principle, therefore, nothing 
can be worse understood than this continuity of 
enjoyment; for to such a degree of labor is the 
pursuit carried, that the pleasures exhaust in- 
stead of exhilarating, and the recreations re- 
quire to be rested from. 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 319 

For, not to argue the question on the ground 
of religion, but merely on that of present en- 
joyment ; look abroad, and see who are the 
people that complain of weariness, listlessness, 
and dejection. You will not find them among 
the class of such as are overdone with work, 
but with pleasure. The natural and healthful 
fatigues of business may be recruited by simple 
and cheap gratifications ; but a spirit worn 
down with the toils of amusement requires 
pleasures of poignancy — varied, multiplied, 
stimulating ! 

It has been observed by medical writers, that 
that sober excess in which many indulge, by 
eating and drinking a little too much at every 
day's dinner and every night's supper, more 
effectually undermines the health, than those 
more rare excesses, by which others now and 
then break in upon a life of general sobriety. 
This illustration is not introduced with a design 
to recommend occasional deviations into gross 
vice, by way of a pious receipt for mending 
the morals ; but merely to suggest that there is 
a probability that those who are sometimes 
driven by unresisted passion into irregularities 
which shock their cooler reason, are more 
liable to be roused to a sense of their danger, 
than persons whose perceptions of evil are 
blunted through a round of systematical, un- 
ceasing, and yet not scandalous dissipation. 
And when I affirm that this system of regular 
indulgence relaxes the soul, enslaves the heart, 
bewitches the senses, and thus disqualifies for 
pious thought or useful action, without having 
any thing in it so gross as to shock the con- 



320 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

science ; and when I hazard an opinion that 
this state is more formidable, because less 
alarming, than that which bears upon it a more 
determined character of evil, I no more mean to 
speak of the latter in slight and palliating terms, 
than I would intimate, because the sick some- 
times recover from a fever, but seldom from a 
palsy, that a fever is, therefore, a safe or a 
healthy state. 

But there seems to be an error in the first 
concoction, out of which the subsequent errors 
successively grow. First, then, as has been 
observed before, the showy education of women 
tends chiefly to qualify them for the glare of 
public assemblies : secondly, they seem, in 
many instances, to be so educated, with a view 
to the greater probability of their being splen- 
didly married : thirdly, it is alleged, in vindica- 
tion of those dissipated practises, that daughters 
can only be seen, and admirers procured, at 
balls, operas, and assemblies; and that there- 
fore, by a natural and necessary consequence, 
balls, operas, and assemblies must be followed 
up without intermission till the object be effect- 
ed. For the accomplishment of this object it 
is, that all this complicated machinery had been 
previously set a-going, and kept in motion with 
an activity not at all slackened by the disor- 
dered state of the system ; for some machines, 
instead of being stopped, go faster, because the 
main spring is out of order ; the only differ- 
ence being that they go wrong, and so the in- 
creased rapidity adds only to the quantity of 
error. 

It is also, as we have already remarked, an 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 321 

error to fancy that the love of pleasure exhausts 
itself by indulgence, and that the very young 
are chiefly addicted to it. The contrary ap- 
pears to be true. The desire often grows with 
the pursuit in the same degree as motion is 
quickened, by the continuance of the gravita- 
ting force. 

First, then, it cannot be thought unfair to 
trace back the excessive fondness for amuse- 
ment to that mode of education we have else- 
where reprobated. Few of the accomplish- 
ments, falsely so called, assist the development 
of the faculties : they do not exercise the judg- 
ment, nor bring into action those powers which 
fit the heart and mind for the occupations of 
life ; they do not prepare women to love home, 
to understand its occupations, to enliven its 
uniformity, to fulfil its duties, to„ multiply its 
comforts ; they do not lead to that sort of ex- 
perimental logic, if I may so speak, compound- 
ed of observation and reflection, which makes 
up the moral science of life and manners. 
Talents which have display for their object, 
despise the narrow stage of home : they de- 
mand mankind for their spectators, and the 
world for their theatre. 

While we cannot help shrinking a little from 
the idea of a delicate young creature, lovely in 
person, and engaging in mind and manners, 
sacrificing nightly at the public shrine of fash- 
ion, at once the votary and the victim, we can- 
not help figuring to ourselves how much more 
interesting she would appear in the eyes of a 
man of sense and feeling, did he behold her in 
the more endearing situations of domestic life. 
28 



322 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

And who can forbear wishing, that the good 
sense, good taste, and delicacy of the men had 
rather led them to prefer seeking companions 
for life in the almost sacred quiet of a virtuous 
home 1 There they might have had the means 
of seeing and admiring those amiable beings in 
the best point of view : there they might have 
been enabled to form a juster estimate of female 
worth, than is likely to be obtained in scenes 
where such qualities and talents as might be 
expected to add to the stock of domestic com- 
fort must necessarily be kept in the back 
ground, and where such only can be brought 
into view as are not particularly calculated to 
insure the certainty of home delights. 

O ! did they keep their persons fresh and new. 
How would they pluck allegiance from men's hearts, 
And win by rareness ! 

But by what unaccountable infatuation is it 
that men, too, even men of understanding, join 
in the confederacy against their own happiness, 
by looking for their home companions in the 
resorts of vanity 1 Why do not such men rise 
superior to the illusions of fashion ? Why do 
they not uniformly seek her who is to preside 
in their families, in the bosom of her own ? in 
the practice of every domestic duty, in the ex- 
ercise of every amiable virtue, in the exertion 
of every elegant accomplishment; those accom- 
plishments of which we have been reprobating, 
not the possession, but the application 1 There 
they would find her exerting them to their true 
end, to enliven business, to animate retirement, 
to embellish the charming scene of family de- 
lights, to heighten the interesting pleasures of 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 323 

social intercourse, and, rising in just gradation 
to their noblest object, to adorn the doctrine of 
God her Saviour. 

If, indeed, woman were mere outside, form 
and face only, and if mind made up no part of 
her composition, it would follow that a ball- 
room was quite as appropriate a place for 
choosing a wife, as an exhibition-room for 
choosing a picture. But, inasmuch as women 
are not mere portraits, their value not being de- 
terminable by a glance of the eye, it follows 
that a different mode of appreciating their value, 
and a different place for viewing them ante- 
cedent to their being individually selected, is 
desirable. The two cases differ also in this, 
that if a man select a picture for himself from 
among all its exhibited competitors, and bring 
it to his own house, the picture being passive, 
he is able to fix it there ; while the wife, picked 
up at a public place, and accustomed to inces- 
sant display, will not, it is probable, when 
brought home, stick so quietly to the spot 
where he fixes her, but will escape to the exhi- 
bition-room again, and continue to be displayed 
at every subsequent exhibition, just as if she 
were not become private property, and had 
never been definitively disposed of. 

It is the novelty of a thing which astonishes 
us, and not its absurdity : objects may be so 
long kept before the eye, that it begins no 
longer to observe them, or may be brought into 
such close contact with it, that it does not dis- 
cern them. Loner habit so reconciles us to al- 
most any thing, that the grossest improprieties 
cease to strike us when they once make a part 



324 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

of the common course of action. This, by the 
way, is a strong reason for carefully sifting 
every opinion and every practice before we let 
thern incorporate into the mass of our habits, 
for after that time they will be no more exam- 
ined. — Would it not be accounted preposterous 
for a young man to say he had fancied such a 
lady would dance a better minuet because he 
had seen her behave devoutly at church, and 
therefore had chosen her for his partner ? And 
yet he is not thought at all absurd when he in- 
timates that he chose a partner for life because 
he was pleased with her at a ball. Surely the 
place of choosing and the motive of choice, 
would be just as appropriate in one case as in 
the other, and the mistake, if the judgment 
failed, not quite so serious. 

There is, among the more elevated classes of 
society, a certain set of persons who are pleased 
exclusively to call themselves, and whom others 
by a sort of compelled courtesy are pleased to 
call " the fine world." This small detachment 
consider their situation, with respect to the rest 
of mankind, just as the ancient Grecians did 
theirs ; that is, as the Grecians thought there 
were but two sorts of beings, and that all who 
were not Grecians were barbarians, so this cer- 
tain set conceives of society as resolving itself 
into two distinct classes — the fine world, and 
the people ; to which last class they turn over 
all who do not belong to their little coterie, 
however high their rank, or fortune, or merit. 
Celebrity, in their estimation, is not bestowed 
by birth or talents, but by being connected with 
them. They have laws, immunities, privileges, 



MODERN HABTTS OF LIFE. 325 

and almost a language of their own ; they form 
a kind of distinct cast, and with a sort of esprit 
du corps detach themselves from others, even 
in general society, by an affectation of distance 
and coldness ; and only whisper and smile in 
their own little groups of the initiated ; their 
confines are jealously guarded, and their privi- 
leges are incommunicable. 

In this society a young man loses his natu- 
ral character, which, whatever it might have 
been originally, is melted down and cast into 
the one prevailing mould of fashion ; all the 
strong, native, discriminating qualities of his 
mind being made to take one shape, one stamp, 
one superscription ! However varied and dis- 
tinct might have been the materials which na- 
ture threw into the crucible, plastic fashion 
takes care that they shall all be the same, or at 
least appear the same, when they come out of 
the mould. A young man in such an artificial 
state of society, accustomed to the voluptuous 
ease, refined luxuries, soft accommodations, ob- 
sequious attendance, and all the unrestrained 
indulgences of a fashionable club, is not to be 
expected after marriage to take very cordially 
to a home, unless very extraordinary exertions 
are made to amuse, to attach, and to interest 
him ; and he is not likely to lend a very help- 
ing hand to the happiness of the union, whose 
most laborious exertions have hitherto been little 
more than a selfish stratagem to reconcile health 
with pleasure. Excess of gratification has only 
served to make him irritable and exacting ; it 
will of course be no part of his project to make 
sacrifices ; he will expect to receive them : and 
28* 



326 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

what would appear incredible to the Paladins 
of gallant times, and the Chevaliers Preux* of 
more heroic days, even in the necessary busi- 
ness of establishing himself for life, he some- 
times is more disposed to expect attentions than 
to make advances. 

Thus the indolent son of fashion, with a 
thousand fine but dormant qualities, which a 
bad tone of manners forbids him to bring into 
exercise ; with real energies which that tone 
does not allow him to discover, and an unreal 
apathy which it commands him to feign ; with 
the heart of a hero, perhaps, if called into the 
field, affects at home the manners of a Syba- 
rite ; and he who, with a Roman, or, what is 
more, with a British valor, would leap into the 
gulf at the call of public duty, 

Yet in the soft and piping time of peace, 

when fashion has resumed her rights, would 
murmur if a rose-leaf lay double under him. 

The clubs above alluded to, as has been said, 
generate and cherish luxurious habits, from their 
perfect ease, undress, liberty, and inattention to 
the distinctions of rank : they promote a love of 
play, and, in short, every temper and spirit 
which tends to undomesticate ; and, what adds 
to the mischief is, all this is attained at a cheap 
rate compared with what may be procured at 
home in the same style. 

These indulgences, and this habit of mind, 
gratify so many passions, that a woman can 

* These were the names assumed by the knights of the roman- 
tic and heroic ages, whose adventurous deeds form £he theme of 
chivalric history.— Ed. 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE, 327 

never : frope successfully to counteract the evil 
by supplying at home gratifications which are 
of the same kind, or which gratify the same 
habits. Now, a passion for gratifying vanity, 
and a spirit of dissipation, is a passion of the 
same kind ; and therefore, though, for a few 
weeks, a man who has chosen his wife in the 
public haunts, and this wife a woman made up 
of accomplishments ■, may, from the novelty of 
the connection and of the scene, continue do- 
mestic ; yet in a little time she will find that 
those passions^ to which she has trusted for 
making pleasant the married life of her hus- 
band, will crave the still higher pleasures of the 
club ; and while these are pursued, she will be 
consigned over to solitary evenings at home, or 
driven back to the old dissipations. 

To conquer the passion for club gratifica- 
tions, a woman must not strive to feed it with 
sufficient aliment of the same kind in her soci- 
ety, either at home or abroad ; she must sup- 
plant and overcome it by a passion of a differ- 
ent nature, which Providence has kindly planted 
within us ; I mean by inspiring him with the 
love of fireside enjoyments. But to qualify her- 
self for administering these, she must cultivate 
her understanding, and her heart, and her tem- 
per, acquiring at the same time that modicum 
of accomplishments suited to his taste, which 
may qualify her for possessing, both for him and 
for herself, greater varieties of safe recreation. 

One great cause of the want of attachment 
in these modish couples is, that, by living in 
the world at large, they are not driven to de- 
pend on each other as the chief source of com- 



328 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

fori. Now, it is pretty clear, in spite of modern 
theories, that the very frame and being of soci- 
eties, whether great or small, public or private, 
is jointed and glued together by dependence. 
Those attachments, which arise from, and are 
compacted by, a sense of mutual wants, mutual 
affection, mutual benefit, and mutual obligation, 
are the cement which secure the union of the 
family as well as of the state. 

Unfortunately, when two young persons of 
the above description marry, the union is some- 
times considered rather as the end than the be- 
ginning of an engagement : the attachment of 
each to the other is rather viewed as an object 
already completed, than as one which marriage 
is to confirm more closely. But the companion 
for life is not always chosen from the purest 
motive ; she is selected, perhaps because she is 
admired by other men, rather than because she 
possesses in an eminent degree those peculiar 
qualities which are likely to constitute the indi- 
vidual happiness of the man who chooses her. 
Vanity usurps the place of affection ; and indo- 
lence swallows up the judgment. Not happi- 
ness, but some easy substitute for happiness, is 
pursued ; and a choice which may excite envy, 
rather than produce satisfaction, is adopted as 
the means of effecting it. 

The pair, not matched, but joined, set out 
separately with their independent and individ- 
ual pursuits ; whether it made a part of their 
original plan or not, that they should be indis- 
pensably necessary to each other's comfort, the 
sense of this necessity, probably not very strong 
at first, rather diminishes than increases by 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 329 

time; they live so much in the world, and so 
little together, that to stand well with their own 
set continues the favorite project of each ; while 
to stand well with each other, is considered as 
an under part of the plot in the drama of life. 
Whereas, did they start in the conjugal race 
with the fixed idea that they were to look to 
each other for their chief worldly happiness, 
not only principle, but prudence, and even self- 
ishness, would convince them of the necessity 
of sedulously cultivating each other's esteem 
and affection as the grand means of promoting 
that happiness. But vanity, and the desire of 
flattery and applause, still continue to operate. 
Even after the husband is brought to feel a per- 
fect indifference for his wife, he still likes to 
see her decorated in a style which may serve to 
justify his choice. He encourages her to set 
off her person, not so much for his own gratifi- 
cation, as that his self-love may be flattered, by 
her continuing to attract the admiration of those 
whose opinion is the standard by which he 
measures his fame, and which fame is to stand 
him in the stead of happiness. Thus is she 
necessarily exposed to the two-fold temptation 
of being at once neglected by her husband, and 
exhibited as an object of attraction to other 
men. If she escape this complicated danger, 
she will be indebted for her preservation not to 
his prudence, but to her own principles. 

In some of these modish marriages, instead 
of the decorous neatness, the pleasant inter- 
course, and the mutual warmth of communica- 
tion of the once social dinner, the late and un- 
interesting meal is commonly hurried over by 



330 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

the languid and slovenly pair, that the one may 
have time to dress for his club, and the other 
for her party. And in these cold, abstracted 
tetes-a-tetes, they often take as little pains to 
entertain each other, as if the one was precisely 
the only human being in the world in whose 
eyes the other did not feel it necessary to ap- 
pear agreeable. 

Now, if these young and perhaps really ami- 
able persons could struggle against the imperi- 
ous tyranny of fashion, and contrive to pass a 
little time together, so as to get acquainted with 
each other; and if each would live in the lively 
and conscientious exercise of those talents and 
attractions which they sometimes know how to 
produce on occasions not quite so justifiable ; 
they would, I am persuaded, often find out each 
other to be very agreeable people. And both 
of them, delighted and delighting, receiving 
and bestowing happiness, would no longer be 
driven to the necessity of perpetually escaping 
from home as from the only scene which offers 
no possible materials for pleasure. The steady 
and growing attachment, improved by unbound- 
ed confidence and mutual interchange of senti- 
ments ; judgment ripening, and experience 
strengthening that esteem which taste and in- 
clination first inspired ; each party studying to 
promote the eternal as well as temporal happi- 
ness of the other ; each correcting the errors, 
improving the principles, and confirming the 
faith of the beloved object, — this would enrich 
the feeling heart with gratifications which the 
insolvent world has not to bestow : such a heart 
would compare its interesting domestic scenes 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 331 

with the vapid pleasures of public resort, till it 
would fly to its own home, not from necessity, 
but taste ; not from custom, but choice ; not 
from duty, but delight. 

It may seem a contradiction to have asserted, 
that beings of all ages, tempers, and talents 
should with such unremitting industry follow 
up any way of life, if they did not find some 
enjoyment in it : yet I appeal to the bosoms of 
these incessant hunters in the chase of pleasure, 
whether they are really happy. No : in the 
full tide and torrent of diversion, in the full 
blaze of gayety and splendor, 

The heart, distrusting, asks if this be joy ; 

But there is an anxious restlessness excited by 
the pursuit, which, if not interesting, is bust- 
ling. There is the dread, and partly the dis- 
credit of being suspected of having one hour 
unmortgaged, not only to successive, but con- 
tending engagements ; this it is, and not the 
pleasure of the engagement itself, which is the 
object. There is an agitation in the arrange- 
ments which imposes itself on the vacant heart 
for happiness. There is a tumult kept up in 
the spirits which is a busy though treacherous 
substitute for comfort. The multiplicity of so- 
licitations soothes vanity. The very regret that 
they cannot be all accepted has its charms; for 
dignity is flattered because refusal implies im- 
portance, and pre-engagement intimates celeb- 
rity. Then there is the joy of being invited 
when others are neglected ; the triumph of 
showing our less modish friend that we are 
going where she cannot come ; and the feign- 



332 ON DISSIPATION AND THE 

ed regret at being obliged to go, assumed be- 
fore her who is half wild at being obliged to 
stay away. There is the secret art of exciting 
envy in the very act of bespeaking compassion ; 
and of challenging respect by representing their 
engagements as duties, oppressive indeed, but 
indispensable. These are some of the supple- 
mental shifts for happiness with which vanity 
contrives to feed her hungry followers, too 
eager to be nice.* 

In the succession of open houses, in which 
pleasure is to be started and pursued on any 
given night, the actual place is never taken into 
the account of enjoyment ; the scene of which 
is always supposed to lie in any place where 
her votaries happen not to be. Pleasure has no 
present tense ; but in the house which her pur- 
suers have just quitted, and in the house to 
which they are just hastening, a stranger might 
conclude the slippery goddess had really fixed 
her throne, and that her worshippers considered 
the existing scene, which they seem compelled 
to suffer, but from which they are eager to es- 
cape, as really detaining them from some posi- 
tive joy to which they are flying in the next 
crowd ; till, if he met them there, he would 
find the component parts of each precisely the 
same. He would hear the same stated phrases 
interrupted, not answered, by the same stated 
replies, the unfinished sentence " driven ad- 



* The precaution which is taken against the possibility of 
being unengaged by the long interval between the invitation and 
the period of its accomplishment, reminds us of what historians 
remark of the citizens of ancient Crotona, who used to send 
their invitations a year before the time, that the guests might 
prepare both their dress and their appetite for the visit. 



MODERN HABITS OF LIFE. 333 

verse to the winds," by pressing multitudes ; 
the same warm regret mutually exchanged by 
two friends (who had been expressly denied to 
each other all the winter), that they had not 
met before ; the same soft and smiling sorrow 
at being torn away from each other now ; the 
same avowed anxiety to renew the meeting, 
with perhaps the same secret resolution to avoid 
it. He would hear described with the same 
pathetic earnestness the difficulties of getting 
into this house, and the -dangers of getting 
out of the last ! the perilous retreat of former 
nights, effected amidst the shock of chariots, 
and the clang of contending coachmen ! a re- 
treat, indeed, effected with a skill and peril 
little inferior to that of the ten thousand, and 
detailed with far juster triumph ; for that 
which happened only once in a life to the 
Grecian hero,* occurs to these British heroines 
every night. There is one point of resem- 
blance, indeed, between them, in which the 
comparison fails; for the commander, with a 
mauvaise honte at which a true female veteran 
would blush, is remarkable for never naming 
himself. 

With " mysterious reverence," I forbear to 
descant on those serious and interesting rites, 
for the more august and solemn celebration of 
which, fashion nightly convenes these splendid 
myriads to her more sumptuous temples. Rites ! 
which, when engaged in with due devotion, ab- 



* Xenophon, the philosophical warrior, who immortalized him- 
self by his writings and by his famous retreat as the leader of the 
ten thousand Greeks from the Asiatic expedition. He was the 
disciple of Sociates, and his historian. — Ed. 

29 



334 ON DISSIPATION, &c. 

sorb the whole soul, and call every passion into 
exercise, except indeed those of love, and peace, 
and kindness, and gentleness. Inspiring rites ! 
which stimulate fear, rouse hope, kindle zeal, 
quicken dulness, sharpen discernment, exercise 
memory, inflame curiosity ! Rites ! in short, 
in the due performance of which all the ener- 
gies and attentions, all the powers and abilities, 
all the abstraction and exertion, all the dili- 
gence and devotedness, all the sacrifice of time, 
all the contempt of ease, all the neglect of 
sleep, all the oblivion of care, all the risks of 
fortune (half of which, if directed to their true 
objects, would change the very face of the 
world), — all these are concentrated to one 
point ; a point in which the wise and the weak, 
the learned and the ignorant, the fair and the 
frightful, the sprightly and the dull, the rich 
and the poor, the patrician and plebeian, meet 
in one common and uniform equality ; an 
equality as religiously respected in these solem- 
nities, in which all distinctions are levelled at a 
blow (and of which the very spirit is therefore 
democratical), as it is combated in all other 
instances. 

Behold four Kings in majesty revered, 
With hoary whiskers and a forked beard ; 
And four fair dueens, whose hands sustain a flower, 
The expressive emblem of their softer power; 
Four Knaves in garbs succinct, a trusty band, 
Caps on their heads, and halberts in their hand ; 
And party-colored troops, a shining train, 
Drawn forth to combat on the velvet plain.* 

* Rape of the Lock 



ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 335 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

On public amusements. 

It is not proposed to enter the long-contested 
field of controversy as to the individual amuse- 
ments which may be considered as safe and 
lawful for those women of the higher class who 
make a strict profession of Christianity. The 
judgment they will be likely to form for them- 
selves on the subject, and the plan they will 
consequently adopt, will depend much on the 
clearness or obscurity of their religious views, 
and on the greater or less progress they have 
made in their Christian course. It is in their 
choice of amusements that you are able, in 
some measure, to get acquainted with the real 
dispositions of mankind. In their business, in 
the leading employments of life, their path is, 
in a good degree, chalked out for them : there 
is, in this respect, a sort of general character, 
wherein the greater part, more or less, must 
coincide. But in their pleasures, the choice is 
voluntary, the taste is self-directed, the propen- 
sity is independent ; and, of course, the habit- 
ual state, the genuine bent and bias of the 
temper, are most likely to be seen in those pur- 
suits which every person is at liberty to choose 
for himself. 

When a truly religious principle shall have 
acquired such a degree of force as to produce 
that conscientious and habitual improvement of 
time before recommended, it will discover itself 



336 ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 

by an increasing indifference, and even dead- 
ness, to those pleasures which are interesting 
to the world at large. A woman under the 
predominating influence of such a principle, 
will begin to discover that the same thing 
which in itself is innocent may yet be compar- 
atively wrong. She will begin to feel that 
there are many amusements and employments 
which, though they have nothing censurable in 
themselves, yetj if they be allowed to intrench 
on hours which ought to be dedicated to still 
better purposes ; or if they are protracted to an 
undue length;, or, above all, if, by softening 
and relaxing her mind and dissipating her spir- 
its, they so indispose her for better pursuits as 
to render subsequent duties a burden, — -they 
become, in that case, clearly wrong for her, 
whatever they may be for others. Now, as 
temptations of this sort are the peculiar dangers 
of better kind of characters, the sacrifice of 
such little gratifications as may have no great 
harm in them,, come in among the daily calls 
to self-denial in a Christian. 

The fine arts, for instance, polite literature, 
elegant society, — these are among the lawful, 
and liberal, and becoming recreations of higher 
life ; yet if even these be cultivated to the 
negiect or exclusion of severer duties ; if they 
interfere with serious studies, or disqualify the 
mind for religious exercises, it is an intimation 
that they have been too much indulged ; and, 
under such circumstances, it might be the part 
of Christian circumspection to inquire if the 
time devoted to them ought not to be abridged. 
Above all, a tender conscience will never lose 



ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 337 

sight of one safe rule of determining in all 
doubtful cases : if the point be so nice, that 
though we hope upon the whole there may be 
no harm in engaging in it, we may, at least, 
be always quite sure that there can be no harm 
in letting it alone. The adoption of this simple 
rule would put a period to much unprofitable 
casuistry. 

The principle of being responsible for the 
use of time, once fixed in the mind, the consci- 
entious Christian will be making a continual 
progress in the great art of turning time to ac- 
count, In the first stages of her religion, she 
will have abstained from pleasures which began 
a little to wound the conscience, or which as- 
sumed a questionable shape ; but she will prob- 
ably have abstained with regret, and with a 
secret wish that conscience could have permit- 
ted her to keep well with pleasure and religion 
too. But you may discern in her subsequent 
course that she has reached a more advanced 
stage, by her beginning to neglect even such 
pleasures or employments as have no moral 
turpitude in them, but are merely what are 
called innocent. This relinquishment arises, 
not so much from her feeling still more the re- 
straints of religion, as from the improvement in 
her religious taste. Pleasures cannot now at- 
tach her merely from their being innocent, un- 
less they are likewise interesting; and, to be 
interesting, thev must be consonant to her su- 
perinduced views. She is not contented to 
spend a large portion of her time harmlessly ; 
it must be spent profitably also. Nay, if she be 
indeed earnestly " pressing towards the mark," 
29* 



338 ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 

it will not be even enough for her that her 
present pursuit be-good, if she be convinced 
that it might be .still better. Her contempt of 
ordinary enjoyments will increase in a direct 
proportion *.te 'her .increased relish for those 
pleasures which religion enjoins and bestows. 
So that, at length, if it were possible to suppose 
that an angel could come down to take off, as it 
were, the interdict, and to invite her to resume 
all the pleasures she had renounced, and to re- 
sume them with complete impunity, she would 
reject the invitation, because, from an improve- 
ment in her spiritual taste, she would despise 
those delights from which she had at first ab- 
stained, through fear. Till her will and affec- 
tions come heartily to be engaged in the service 
of God, the progress will not be comfortable; 
but when once they are so engaged, the attach- 
ment to this service will be cordial, and her 
heart will not desire to go back and toil again 
in the drudgery of the world. For her religion 
has not so much given her a new creed, as a 
new heart and a new life. 

As her views are become new, so her temp- 
ers, dispositions, tastes, actions, pursuits, choice 
of company, choice of amusements, are new 
also : her employment of time is changed ; her 
turn of conversation is altered ; " old things 
are passed away, all things are become new." 
In dissipated and worldly society, she will sel- 
dom fail to feel a sort of uneasiness, which will 
produce one of these two effects ; she will 
either, as proper seasons present themselves, 
struggle hard to introduce such subjects as may 
be useful to others ; or, supposing that she finds 



ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 339 

herself unable to effect this, she will, as far as 
she prudently can, absent herself from all un- 
profitable kind of society. Indeed, her manner 
of conducting herself under these circumstan- 
ces, may serve to furnish her with a test of her 
own sincerity. For, while people are contend- 
ing for a little more of this -amusement, and 
pleading for a little extension of that gratifica- 
tion, and fighting in order that they may hedge 
in a little more territory to their pleasure-ground, 
they are exhibiting a kind of evidence against 
themselves, that they are not yet " renewed in 
the spirit of their mind." 

It has been warmly urged, as an objection to 
certain religious books, and particularly against 
a recent work of high worth and celebrity, by 
a distinguished layman,* that they have set the 
standard of self-denial higher than reason or 
even than Christianity requires. These works 
do indeed elevate the general tone of religion 
to a higher pitch than is quite convenient to 
those who are at infinite pains to construct a 
comfortable and comprehensive plan, which 
shall unite the questionable pleasures of this 
world with the promised happiness of the next. 
I say, it has been sometimes objected, even by 
those readers who, on the whole, greatly admire 
the particular work alluded to, that it is unrea- 
sonably strict in the preceptive and prohibitory 
parts : and, especially, that it individually and 
specifically forbids certain fashionable amuse- 
ments, with a severity not to be found in the 
Scriptures, and is scrupulously rigid in con- 

* Practical View, &;c. by Mr. Wilberforce. 



340 ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 

demning diversions, against which nothing is 
said in the New Testament. Each objector, 
however, is so far reasonable, as only to beg 
quarter for her own favorite diversion, and gen- 
erously abandons the defence of those in which 
she herself has no particular pleasure. 

But these objectors do not seem to under- 
stand the true genius of Christianity. They 
do not consider that it is the character of the 
Gospel to exhibit a scheme of principles, of 
which it is the tendency to infuse such a spirit 
of holiness as must be utterly incompatible, not 
only with customs decidedly vicious, but with 
the very spirit of worldly pleasure. They do 
not consider that Christianity is neither a table 
of ethics, nor a system of opinions, nor a bun- 
dle of rods to punish, nor an exhibition of re- 
wards to allure, nor a scheme of restraints to 
terrify, nor merely a code of laws to restrict : 
but it is a new principle infused into the heart 
by the word and the Spirit of God ; out of 
which principle will inevitably grow right opin- 
ions, renewed affections, correct morals, pure 
desires, heavenly tempers, and holy habits, with 
an invariable desire of pleasing God, and a 
constant fear of offending him. A real Chris- 
tian, whose heart is once thoroughly imbued 
with this principle, can no more return to the 
amusements of the world, than a philosopher 
can be refreshed with the diversions of the vul- 
gar, or a man to be amused with the recrea- 
tions of a child. The New Testament is not 
a mere statute-book : it is not a table where 
every offence is detailed, and its corresponding 
penalty annexed : it is not so much a compila- 



OiN PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 34 I 

tion, as a spirit of laws : it does not so much 
prohibit every individual wrong practice, as 
suggest a temper, and implant a genera) prin- 
ciple, with which every wrong practice is in- 
compatible. It did not, for instance, so much 
attack the then reigning and corrupt fashions, 
which were probably, like the fashions of other 
countries, temporary and local, as it struck at 
that worldliness, which is the root and stock 
from which all corrupt fashions proceed. 

The prophet Isaiah, who addressed himself 
more particularly to the Israelitish women, in- 
veighed not only against vanity, luxury, and 
immodesty, in general, but with great propriety 
censured even those precise instances of each, 
to which the women of rank in the particular 
country he was addressing were especially ad- 
dicted ; nay, he enters into the minute detail* 
of their very personal decorations, and brings 
specific charges against several instances of 
their levity and extravagance of apparel ! mean- 
ing, however, chiefly to censure the turn of 
character which these indicated. But the gos- 
pel of Christ, which was to be addressed to all 
ages, stations, and countries, seldom contains 
any such detailed animadversions ; for though 
many of the censurable modes which the proph- 
et so severely reprobated, continued probably 
to be still prevalent in Jerusalem in the days of 
our Saviour, yet how little would it have suited 
the universality of his mission, to have confined 
his preaching to such local, limited, and fluctu- 
ating customs ! not but that there are many 

* Isaiah, chap. iii. 



342 ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 

texts which actually do define the Christian 
conduct as well as temper, with sufficient par- 
ticularity to serve as a condemnation of many 
practices which are pleaded for, and often to 
point pretty directly at them. 

It would be well for those modish Christians 
who vindicate excessive vanity in dress, ex- 
pense, and decoration, on the principle of their 
being mere matters of indifference, and |jj no 
where prohibited in the gospel, to consider that 
such practices strongly mark the temper and 
spirit with which they are connected, and in 
that view are so little creditable to the Chris- 
tian profession, as to furnish a just subject of 
suspicion against the piety of those who indulge 
in them. 

Had Peter, on that memorable day when he 
added three thousand converts to the church by 
a single sermon, narrowed his subject to a re- 
monstrance against this diversion, or that pub- 
lic place, or the other vain amusement, it might 
indeed have suited the case of some of the fe- 
male Jewish converts who were present ; but 
such restrictions as might have been appropri- 
ate to them, would probably not have applied to 
the cases of the Parthians and Medes, of which 
his audience was partly composed ; or such as 
might have belonged to them would have been 
totally inapplicable to the Cretes and Arabians; 
or again, those which suited these would not 
have applied to the Elamites and Mesopotami- 
ans. By such partial and circumscribed ad- 
dresses, his multifarious audience, composed of 
all nations and countries, would not have been, 
as we are told they were, " pricked to the 



ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 343 

heart." But when he preached on the broad 
ground of general " repentance and remission 
of sins in the name of Jesus Christ," it was no 
wonder that they all cried out, " What shall we 
do ?" These collected foreigners, at their re- 
turn home, must have found very different usa- 
ges to be corrected in their different countries ; 
of course, a detailed restriction of the popular 
abuses at Jerusalem would have been of little 
use to strangers returning to their respective 
nations. The ardent apostle, therefore, acted 
more consistently in communicating to them 
the large and comprehensive spirit of the Gos- 
pel, which should at once involve all their scat- 
tered and separate duties, as well as reprove all 
their scattered and separate corruptions ; for 
the whole always includes a part, and the 
greater involves the less. Christ and his disci- 
ples, instead of limiting their condemnation to 
the peculiar vanities reprehended by Isaiah, 
embraced the very soul and principle of them 
all in such exhortations as the following : " Be 
ye not conformed to the world :" — " If any 
man love the world, the love of the Father is 
not in him :" — " The fashion of this world pass- 
eth away." Our Lord and his apostles, whose 
future unselected audience was to be made up 
out of the various inhabitants of the whole 
world, attacked the evil heart, out of which all 
those incidental, local, peculiar, and popular 
corruptions proceeded. 

In the time of Christ and his immediate fol- 
lowers, the luxury and intemperance of the Ro- 
mans had arisen to a pitch before unknown in 
the world ; but as the same gospel which its 



344 ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 

divine Author and his disciples were then 
preaching to the hungry and necessitous, was 
afterwards to be preached to high and low, not 
excepting the Roman emperors themselves ; 
the large precept, " Whether ye eat or drink, 
or whatever ye do, do all to the glory of God," 
was likely to be of more general use, than any 
separate exhortation to temperance, to thank- 
fulness, to moderation as to quantity or ex- 
pense ; which last, indeed, must always be left 
in some degree to the judgment and circum- 
stances of the individual. 

When the apostle of the Gentiles visited the 
" saints of Caesar's household, he could hardly 
fail to have heard, nor could he have heard 
without abhorrence, of some of the fashionable 
amusements in the court of Nero. He must 
have reflected with peculiar indignation on 
many things which were practised in the Cir- 
censian games : yet, instead of pruning this 
corrupt tree, and singling out even the inhu- 
man gladiatorial sports for the object of his 
condemnation, he laid his axe to the root of all 
corruption, by preaching to them that gospel 
of Christ of which " he was not ashamed •" 
and showing- to them that believed, that " it 
was the power of God and the wisdom of God." 
Of this gospel the great object was, to attack 
not one popular evil, but the whole body of 
sin. Now, the doctrine of Christ crucified, 
was the most appropriate means for destroying 
this ; for by what other means could the fervid 
imagination of the apostle have so powerfully 
enforced the heinousness of sin, as by insisting 
on the costliness of the sacrifice which was 



ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 345 

offered for its expiation 1 It is somewhat re- 
markable, that about the very time of his 
preaching to the Romans, the public taste had 
sunk to such an excess of depravity, that the 
very women engaged in those shocking encoun- 
ters with the gladiators. 

But, in the first place, it was better that the 
right practice of his hearers should grow out of 
the right principle ; and next his specifically 
reprobating these diversions might have had 
this ill effect, that succeeding ages, seeing that 
they in their amusements came somewhat short 
of those dreadful excesses of the polished Ro- 
mans, would only have plumed themselves on 
their own comparative superiority ; and, on this 
principle, even the bull-fights of Madrid might 
in time have had their panegyrists. The truth 
is, the apostle knew that such abominable cor- 
ruptions could never subsist together with Chris- 
tianity : and, in fact, the honor of abolishing 
these barbarous diversions was reserved for 
Constantine, the first Christian emperor. 

Besides, the apostles, by inveighing against 
some particular diversions, might have seemed 
to sanction all which they did not actually cen- 
sure : and as, in the lapse of time and the revo- 
lution of governments, customs change and 
manners fluctuate, had a minute reprehension 
of the fashions of the then existing age been 
published in the New Testament, that portion 
of Scripture must in time have become obso- 
lete, even in that very same country, when 
the fashions themselves should have changed. 
Paul and his brother apostles knew that their 
epistles would be the oracles of the Christian 
30 



346 ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 

world, when these temporary diversions would 
be forgotten. In consequence of this knowl- 
edge, by the universal precept to avoid " the 
lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the 
pride of life," they have prepared a lasting anti- 
dote against the principle of all corrupt pleas- 
ures, which will ever remain equally applicable 
to the loose fashions of all ages and of every 
country, to the end of the world. 

Therefore, to vindicate diversions which are 
in themselves unchristian, on the pretended 
ground that they are not specifically condemned 
in the gospel, would be little less absurd than if 
the heroes of Newmarket should bring it as a 
proof that their periodical meetings are not 
condemned in Scripture, because St. Paul, 
when writing to the Corinthians, did not speak 
against these diversions; and that in availing 
himself of the Isthmian games, as a happy illus- 
tration of the Christian race, he did not drop 
any censure on the practice itself; a practice 
which was, indeed, as much more pure than 
the races of Christian Britain, as the modera- 
tion of being contented with the triumph of a 
crown of leaves is superior to that criminal 
spirit of gambling which iniquitously enriches 
the victor by beggaring the competitor. 

Local abuses, as we have said, were not the 
object of a book whose instructions were to be 
of universal and lasting application. As a proof 
of this, little is said in the gospel of the then 
prevailing corruption of polygamy ; nothing 
against the savage custom of exposing children, 
or even against slavery ; nothing expressly 
against suicide or duelling ; the last Gothic 



ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 347 

custom, indeed, did not exist among the crimes 
of paganism. But is there not an implied pro- 
hibition against polygamy in the general de- 
nunciation against adultery ? Is not exposing 
of children condemned in that charge against 
the Romans, " that they were without natural 
affection V Is there not a strong censure 
against slavery conveyed in the command to 
" do unto others as you would have them do 
unto you V and against suicide and duelling, 
in the general prohibition against murder, 
which is strongly enforced and affectingly am- 
plified by the solemn manner in which murder 
is traced back to its first seed of anger, in the 
sermon on the mount ? 

Thus it is clear, that, when Christ sent the 
gospel to ail nations, he meant that that gospel 
should proclaim those prime truths, general 
laws, and fundamental doctrines, which must 
necessarily involve the prohibition of all indi- 
vidual, local, and inferior errors ; errors which 
could not have been specifically guarded against, 
without having a distinct gospel for every coun- 
try, or without swelling the divine volume into 
such inconvenient length as would have defeat- 
ed one great end of its promulgation.* And 
while its leading principles are of universal ap- 
plication, it must always, in some measure, be 
left to the discretion of the preacher, and to the 
conscience of the hearer, to examine whether 
the life and habits of those who profess it are 
conformable to its main spirit and design. 

The same divine Spirit which indited the 

* " To the poor the gospel is preached." Luke vii. 12. 



348 • ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 

holy Scriptures, is promised, to purify the hearts 
arid renew the natures of repenting and believ- 
ing Christians ; and the compositions it in- 
spired are in some degree analogous to the 
workmanship it effects. It prohibited the vic- 
ious practices of the apostolical days, by prohib- 
iting the passions and principles which rendered 
them gratifying; and still working in like man- 
ner on the hearts of real Christians, it corrects 
the taste which was accustomed to find its 
proper gratification in the resorts of vanity ; and 
thus effectually provides for the reformation of 
the habits, and infuses a relish for rational and 
domestic enjoyments, and for. whatever can ad- 
minister pleasure to that spirit of peace, and 
love, and hope, and joy, which animates and 
rules the renewed heart of the true Christian. 

But there is a portion of Scripture which, 
though to a superficial reader it may seem but 
very remotely connected with the present sub- 
ject, yet, to readers of another cast, seems to 
settle the matter beyond controversy. In the 
parable of the great supper, this important truth 
is held out to. us, that even things good in them- 
selves may be the. means of our eternal ruin, by 
drawing our hearts from God, and causing us 
to make light of the offers of the gospel. One 
invited guest had bought an estate ; another 
had made a purchase, equally blameless, of 
oxen ; a third had married a wife, an act not 
illaudable in itself. They had all different rea- 
sons, none of which appeared to have any moral 
turpitude,- but they all agreed in this, to decline 
the invitation to the supper. The worldly pos- 
sessions of otiej the worldly business of another, 



ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 349 

and, what should be particularly attended to, 
the love to his dearest relative, of a third (a 
love, by the way, not only allowed, but com- 
manded in Scripture), were brought forward as 
excuses for not attending to the important busi- 
ness of religion. The consequence, however, 
was the same to all. " None of those which 
were bidden shall taste of my supper." If, 
then, things innocent, things riecessary, things 
laudable, things commanded, become sinful, 
when by unseasonable or excessive indulgence 
they detain the heart and affections from God, 
how vain will all those arguments necessarily 
be rendered, which are urged by the advocates 
for certain amusements, on the ground of their 
Jiarmlessness ; if those amusements serve (not 
to mention any positive evil which may belong 
to them) in like manner to draw away the 
thoughts and affections from spiritual objects ! 

To conclude : when this topic happens to 
become the subject of conversation, instead of 
addressing severe and pointed attacks to young 
ladies on the sin of attending places of diver- 
sion, would it not be better first to endeavor to 
excite in them that principle of Christianity, 
with which such diversions seem not quite com- 
patible ; as the physician, who visits a patient 
in an eruptive fever, pays little attention to 
those spots which to the ignorant appear to be 
the disease, except, indeed, so far as they serve 
as indications to let him into its nature, but 
goes straight to the root of the malady ? He 
attacks the fever, he lowers the pulse, he 
changes the system, he corrects the general 
habit ; well knowing, that, if he can but re- 
30* 



350 ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 

store the vital principle of health, the spots, 
which were nothing but symptoms, will die 
away of themselves. 

In instructing others, we should imitate our 
Lord and his apostles, and not always aim our 
blow at each particular corruption ; but making 
it our business to convince our pupil that what 
brings forth the evil fruit she exhibits, cannot 
be a branch of the true vine; we should thus 
avail ourselves of individual corruptions, for im- 
pressing her with, a sense of the necessity of 
purifying the common source from which they 
flow — a corrupt nature. Thus making it our 
grand business to rectify the heart, we pursue 
the true, the compendious, the only method of 
producing universal holiness. 

I would, however, take leave of those amia- 
ble and not ill-disposed young persons, who 
complain of the rigor of human, prohibitions;, 
and declare, " they meet with no such strict- 
ness in the gospel," by asking them, with the 
most affectionate earnestness, if they can con- 
scientiously reconcile their nightly attendance 
at every public place- which they frequent, with 
such precepts as the following : " Redeeming 
the time" — " Watch and pray" — " Watch, for 
ye know not at what time your Lord cometh" 
— "Abstain from all appearance of evil" — 
•■ Set your affections on things above" — " Be 
ye spiritually minded" — "Crucify the flesh 
with its affections and lusts." And I would 
venture to offer one criterion, by which the 
persons in question may be enabled to decide 
on the positive innocence and safety of such di- 
versions ; I mean, provided they are sincere in 



ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 351 

their scrutiny, and honest in their avowal. If, 
on their return at night from those places, they 
find they can retire, and " commune with their 
own hearts;" if they find the love of God ope- 
rating with undiminished force on their minds ; 
if they can "bring every thought into subjec- 
tion," and concentrate every wandering imagi- 
nation ; if they can soberly examine into their 
own state of mind ; I do not say if they can do 
all this perfectly and without distraction (for 
who almost can do this at any time?) but if 
they can do it with the same degree of serious- 
ness, pray with the same degree of fervor, and 
renounce the world in as great a measure as at 
other times ; and if they can lie down with a 
peaceful consciousness of having avoided in the 
evening " that temptation" which they had 
prayed not to be " led into" in the morning, 
they may then more reasonably hope that all is 
well, and that they are not speaking false peace 
to their hearts. — Again, if we cannot beg the 
blessing of our Maker on whatever we are go- 
ing to do or to enjoy, is it not an unequivocal 
proof that the thing ought not to be done or en- 
joyed ? On all the rational enjoyments of so- 
ciety, on all healthful and temperate exercise, 
on the delights of friendship, arts, and polished 
letters, on the exquisite pleasures resulting from 
the enjoyment of rural scenery, and the beau- 
ties of nature ; on the innocent participation of 
these, we may ask the divine favor — for the 
sober enjoyment of these, we may thank the 
divine beneficence : but do we feel equally dis- 
posed to invoke blessings or return praises for 
gratifications found (to say no worse) in levity, 



352 



ON PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS. 



in vanity, and waste of time ? If these tests 
were fairly used ; if these experiments were 
honestly tried, if these examinations were con- 
scientiously made, may we not, without of- 
fence, presume to ask — Could our numerous 
places of public resort, could our ever-multiply- 
ing scenes of more select, but not less danger- 
ous diversion, nightly overflow with an excess 
hitherto unparalleled in the annals of pleasure ?* 

* If I might presume to recommend a book which of all others 
exposes the insignificance, vanity, littleness, and emptiness of 
the world, I should not hesitate to name Mr. Law's "Serious 
Call to a Devout and Holy Life.''' 1 Few writers, except Pascal, 
have directed so much acuteness of reasoning and so much point- 
ed wit to this object. He not only makes the reader afraid of a 
worldly life on account of its sinfulness, but ashamed of it on ac- 
count of its folly. Few men perhaps have had a deeper insight 
into the human heart, or have more skilfully probed its corrup- 
tions ; yet on points of doctrine his views do not seem to be just ; 
and his disquisitions are often unsound and fanciful, so that a 
general perusal of his works would neither be profitable or intel- 
ligible. To a fashionable woman, immersed in the vanities of 
life, or to a busy man overwhelmed with its cares, I know no 
book so applicable, or likely to exhibit with equal force the vani- 
ty of the shadows they are pursuing. But, even in this work, 
Law is not a safe guide to evangelical light ; and, in many of his 
others, he is highly visionary and whimsical : and I have known 
some excellent" persons, who were first led by this admirable- 
genius to see the wants of their own hearts, and the utter insuffi- 
ciency of the world to fill up the craving void, who, though they 
became eminent for piety and self-denial, have had their useful- 
ness abridged, and whose minds have contracted something of a 
monastic severity by an unqualified perusal of Mr. Law. True 
Christianity does not call on us to starve our bodies, but our cor- 
ruptions. As the mortified apostle of the holy and self-denying Bap- 
tist, preaching repentance because the kingdom of heaven is at 
hand, Mr. Law has no superior. As a preacher of salvation on 
scriptural grounds, I would follow other guides. 

[Dr. Johnson confessed that in early life he took up Law's 
" Serious Call," with a view to laugh at it ; but that he laid it 
down with other thoughts: " Law," added he, " was too hard 
for me." The book, says the doctor, is the finest treatise of hor- 
tatory divinity in the English language. William Law was a 
non-juring clergyman ; that is, one of those divines who scrupled 
taking the oath of allegiance to the house of Hanover. He led a 
life of great piety and usefulness at KingsclifTe, in Northampton- 
shire, where he died in 1761. — Ed.] 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 353 

CHAPTER XIX. 

A worldly spirit incompatible with the spirit of Christianity. 

Is it not whimsical to hear such complaints 
against the strictness of religion as we are fre- 
quently hearing from beings who are voluntarily 
pursuing, as has been shown in the preceding 
chapters, a course of life which fashion makes 
infinitely more severe 1 How really burden- 
some would Christianity be, if she enjoined 
such sedulous application, such unremitting la- 
bors, such a succession of fatigues ! If religion 
commanded such hardships and self-denial, such 
days of hurry, such evenings of exertion, such 
nights of broken rest, such perpetual sacrifices 
of quiet, such exile from family delights, as 
fashion imposes ; then indeed, the service of 
Christianity would no longer merit its present 
appellation of being a " reasonable service ;" 
then the name of perfect slavery might be justly 
applied to that which we are told in the beautiful 
language of our church, is " a service of per- 
fect freedom ;" a service, the great object of 
which is " to deliver us from the bondage of 
corruption into the glorious liberty of the chil- 
dren of God." 

A worldly temper, by which I mean a dispo- 
sition to prefer worldly pleasures, worldly satis- 
factions, and worldly advantages, to the immor- 
tal interests of the soul ; and to let worldly 
considerations actuate us instead of the dictates 
of religion in the concerns of ordinary life; a 



354 ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 

worldly temper, I say, is not, like almost any 
other fault, the effect of passion, or the conse- 
quence of surprise, when the heart is off its 
guard. It is not excited incidentally by the 
operation of external circumstances on the in- 
firmity of nature ; but it is the vital spirit, the 
essential soul, the living principle of evil. It is 
not so much an act, as a state of being ; not so 
much an occasional complaint, as a tainted con- 
stitution of mind. If it does not always show 
itself in extraordinary excesses, it has no per- 
fect intermission. Even when it is not immedi- 
ately tempted to break out into overt and spe- 
cific acts, it is at work within, stirring up the 
heart to disaffection against holiness, and infus- 
ing a kind of moral disability to whatever is in- 
trinsically right. It infects and depraves all 
the powers and faculties of the soul ; for it ope- 
rates on the understanding, by blinding it to 
whatever is spiritually good : on the will, by 
making it averse from God ; on the affections, 
by disordering and sensualizing them ; so that 
one may almost say to those who are under the 
supreme dominion of this spirit, what was said 
to the hosts of Joshua, " Ye cannot serve the 
Lord." 

This worldliness of mind is not at all com- 
monly understood, and for the following reason : 
People suppose that in this world our chief busi- 
ness is with the things of this world, and that 
to conduct the business of this world well, that 
is, conformably to moral principles, is the chief 
substance of moral and true goodness. Reli- 
gion, if introduced at all into the system, only 
makes it occasional, and, if I may so speak, its 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 355 

holiday appearance. To bring religion into 
ever}' thing, is thought incompatible with the 
due attention to the things of this life. And so 
it would be, if by religion were meant talking 
about religion. The phrase, therefore, is, " We 
cannot always be praying ; we must mind our 
business and our social duties as well as our de- 
votion." Worldly business being thus subject- 
ed to worldly, though in some degree moral, 
maxims, the mind during the conduct of busi- 
ness grows worldly ; and a continually-increas- 
ing worldly spirit dims the sight, and relaxes 
the moral principle on which the affairs of the 
world are conducted, as well as indisposes the 
mind for all the exercises of devotion. 

But this temper, as far as relates to business, 
so much assumes the semblance of goodness, 
that those who have not right views are apt to 
mistake the carrying on the affairs of life on a 
tolerably moral principle, for religion. They 
do not see that the evil lies not in their so car- 
rying on business, but in their not carrying on 
the things of this life in subserviency to the 
things of eternity ; in their not carrying them 
on with the unintermitting idea of responsibili- 
ty. The evil does not lie in their not being al- 
ways on their knees, but in their not bringing 
their religion from the closet into the world ; 
in their not bringing the spirit of the Sunday's 
devotions into the transactions of the week ; in 
not transforming their religion from a dry, and 
speculative, and inoperative system, into a live- 
ly, and influential, and unceasing principle of 
action. 

Thongh there are, blessed be God ! in the 



356 ON A WORLDLY SPIKIT. 

most exalted stations, women who adorn their 
Christian profession by a consistent conduct, 
yet are there not others who are laboring hard 
to unite the irreconcilable interests of earth and 
heaven 1 who, while they will not relinquish 
one jot of what this world has to bestow, yet by 
no means renounce their hopes of a better? 
who do not think it unreasonable that their in- 
dulging in the fullest possession of present pleas- 
ures should interfere with the most certain re- 
version of future glory ? who, after living in the 
most unbounded gratification of ease, vanity, 
and luxury, fancy that heaven must be attached 
of course to a life of which Christianity is the 
outward profession, and which has not been 
stained by any flagrant or dishonorable act of 
guilt? 

Are there not many who, while they enter- 
tain a respect for religion (for I address not the 
unbelieving or the licentious,) while they be- 
lieve its truths, observe its forms, and would be 
shocked not to be thought religious, are yet im- 
mersed in this life of disqualifying worldliness? 
who, though they make a conscience of going 
to the public worship once on a Sunday, and 
are scrupulously observant of the other rites of 
the church, yet hesitate not to give up all the 
rest of their time to the very same pursuits and 
pleasures which occupy the hearts and engross 
the lives of those looser characters whose enjoy- 
ment is not obstructed by any dread of a future 
account ? and who are acting on the wise prin- 
ciple of " the children of this world," in mak- 
ing the most of the present state of being, from 
the conviction that there is no other to be ex- 
pected 1 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 357 

It must be owned, indeed, that faith in 
unseen things is at times lamentably weak 
and defective even in the truly pious ; and that 
it is so, is the subject of their grief and hu- 
miliation. O ! how does the real Christian 
take shame in the coldness of his belief, in 
the lowness of his attainments? How deep- 
ly does he lament that, " when he would do 
good, evil is present with him !" " that the life 
he now lives in the flesh is," not in the degree 
it ought to be, " by faith in the Son of God I" 
Yet one thing is clear ; however weak his be- 
lief may seem to be, it is evident that his ac- 
tions are principally governed by it ; he evinces 
his sincerity to others, by a life in some good 
degree analogous to the doctrines he professes ; 
while to himself he has at least this conviction, 
that, faint as his confidence may be at times, 
low as may be his hope, and feeble as his faith 
may seem, yet, at the worst of times, he would 
not exchange that faint measure of trust and 
hope for all the actual pleasures and possessions 
of his most splendid acquaintance ; and, what 
is a proof of his sincerity, he never seeks the 
cure of his dejection, where they seek theirs, in 
the world, but in God. 

But, as to the faith of worldly persons, how- 
over strong it may be in speculation, however 
othodox their creed, however stout their profes- 
sion, we cannot help fearing that it is a little 
defective in sincerity ; for, if there were in their 
minds a full persuasion of the truth of revela- 
tion, and of the eternal bliss it promises, would 
it not be obvious to them that there must be 
more diligence for its attainment ? We dis- 



358 ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 

cover great ardor in carrying on worldly pro- 
jects, because we believe the good which we 
are pursuing is real, and will reward the trouble 
of the pursuit ; we believe that good is to be at- 
tained by diligence, and we prudently propor- 
tion our earnestness to this conviction ; when, 
therefore, we see persons professing a lively 
faith in a better world, yet laboring little to ob- 
tain an interest in it, can we forbear suspecting 
that their belief, not only of their own title to 
eternal happiness, but of eternal happiness it- 
self, is not well grounded ; and that, if they 
were to " examine themselves truly," and to 
produce the principle of such a relaxed morali- 
ty, the faith would be found to be much of a 
piece with the practice 1 

The objections which disincline the world to 
make present sacrifices of pleasure, with a view 
to obtaining eternal happiness, are such as ap- 
ply to all the ordinary concerns of life. That 
is, men object chiefly to a religious course as 
tending to rob them of that actual pleasure 
which is within their reach, for the sake of a 
remote enjoyment. They object to giving up 
the seen good for the unseen. But do not al- 
most all the transactions of life come under the 
same description 1 Do we not give up present 
ease, and renounce much indulgence, in order 
to acquire a future 1 Do we not part with our 
current money for the reversion of an estate, 
which we know it will be a long time before we 
can possess ? Nay, do not the most worldly 
often submit to an immediate inconvenience, 
by reducing their present income, in order to 
insure to themselves a larger capital for their 
future subsistence ? 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 359 

Now, " Faith, which is the substance of 
things hoped for," is meant to furnish the soul 
with present support, while it satisfies it as to 
the security on which it has lent itself; just as 
a man's bonds and mortgages assure him that 
he is really rich, though he has not all the 
money in hand ready to spend at the moment. 
Those who truly believe the Bible, must in the 
same manner be content to live on its promises, 
by which God has, as it were, pledged himself 
for their future blessedness. 

Even that very spirit of enjoyment which 
leads the persons in question so studiously to 
possess themselves of the qualifications neces- 
sary for the pleasures of the present scene ; 
that understanding and good sense, which leads 
them to acquire such talents as may enable them 
to relish the resorts of gayety here ; that very 
spirit should induce those who are really look- 
ing for a future state of happiness, to wish to 
acquire something of the taste, and temper, and 
talents, which may be considered as qualifica- 
tions for the enjoyment of that happiness. The 
neglect of doing this must proceed from one of 
these two causes ; either they must think their 
nresent course a safe and proper course, or they 
must think that death is to produce some sud- 
den and surprising alteration in the human cha- 
racter. But the office of death is to transport 
us to a new state, not to transform us to a new 
nature ; the stroke of death is intended to effect 
our deliverance out of this world, and our intro- 
duction into another ; but it is not likely to ef- 
fect any sudden and wonderful, much less a 
total change in our hearts or our tastes : so far 



360 ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 

from this, that we are assured in Scripture, 
" that he that is filthy will be filthy still, and he 
that is holy will he holy still." Though we be- 
lieve that death will completely cleanse the holy 
soul from its remaining pollutions, that it will 
exchange defective sanctification into perfect 
purity, entangling temptation into complete free- 
dom ; suffering and affliction into health and 
joy ; doubts and fears into perfect security, and 
oppressive weariness into everlasting rest ; yet 
there is no magic in the wand of death, which 
will convert an unholy soul into a holy one. 
And it is awful to reflect, that such tempers as 
have the allowed predominance here will main- 
tain it forever ; that such as the will is, when 
we close our eyes upon the things of time, such 
it will be when we open them on those of eter- 
nity. The mere act of death no more fits us 
for heaven, than the mere act of the mason w r ho 
pulls down our old house fits us for a new one. 
If we die with our hearts running over with the 
love of the world, there is no promise to lead us 
to expect that we shall rise with them full of 
the love of God. Death indeed will show us to 
ourselves such as we are, but will not make us 
such as we are not ; and it will be too late to 
be acquiring self-knowledge when we can no 
longer turn it to any account but that of tor- 
menting ourselves. To illustrate this truth still 
further by an allusion familiar to the persons I 
address : the drawing up the curtain at the 
theatre, though it serve to introduce us to the 
entertainments behind it, does not create in us 
any new faculties to understand or to relish 
those entertainments : these must have been al- 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 361 

ready acquired : they must have been provided 
beforehand, and brought with us to the place, 
if we would relish the pleasures of the place ; 
for the entertainment can only operate on that 
taste we carry to it. It is too late to be acquir- 
ing when we ought to be enjoying. 

That spirit of prayer and praise, those dispo- 
sitions of love, meekness, " peace, quietness, 
and assurance ;" that indifference to the fashion 
of a world which is passing away : that longing 
after deliverance from sin, that desire of holi- 
ness, together with all " the fruits of the Spirit" 
here, must surely make some part of our quali- 
fication for the enjoyment of a world, the pleas- 
ures of which are all spiritual. And who can 
conceive any thing comparable to the awful 
surprise of a soul long immersed in the indul- 
gences of vanity and pleasure, yet all the while 
lulled by the self-complacency of a religion of 
mere forms ; who, while it counted upon heaven 
as a thing of course, had made no preparation 
for it? Who can conceive any surprise com- 
parable to that of such a soul on shutting its 
eyes on a world of sense, of which all the ob- 
jects and delights were so congenial to its na- 
ture, and opening them on a world of spirits, of 
which all the characters of enjoyment are of a 
nature new, unknown, surprising, and specifi- 
cally different? pleasures more inconceivable 
to its apprehension, and more unsuitable to its 
taste, than the gratifications of one sense are to 
the organs of another, or than the most exqui- 
site works of art and genius to absolute imbe- 
cility of mind. 

While we would with deep humility confess 
31* 



362 ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 

that we cannot purchase heaven by any works 
or right dispositions of our own ; while we grate- 
fully acknowledge that it must be purchased for 
us by " Him who loved us, and washed us from 
our sins in his blood ;" yet let us remember 
that we have no reason to expect we could be 
capable of enjoying the pleasures of a heaven so 
purchased, without heavenly mindedness. 

When those persons who are apt to expect as 
much comfort from religion as if their hearts 
were not full of the world, now and then, in a 
fit of honesty or low spirits, complain that Chris- 
tianity does not make them as good and as 
happy as they were led to expect from that as- 
surance, that " great peace have they who love 
the law of God," and that "they who wait on 
him shall want no manner of thing that is good ;" 
when they lament that the paths of religion are 
not those " paths of pleasantness" which they 
were led to expect ; their case reminds one of 
a celebrated physician, who used to say, that 
the reason why his prescriptions, which com- 
monly cured the poor and the temperate, did so 
little good among his rich, luxurious patients, 
was, that while he was laboring to remove the 
disease by medicines, of which they only took 
drams, grains, and scruples, they were inflaming 
it by a multiplicity of injurious aliments, which 
they swallowed by ounces, pounds, and pints. 

These fashionable Christians should be re- 
minded, that there was no half engagement 
made for them at their baptism ; that they are 
not partly their own, and partly their Redeem- 
er's. He that is " bought with a price," is the 
sole property of the purchaser. Faith does not 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 363 

consist merely in submitting the opinions of the 
understanding, but the dispositions of the heart; 
religion is not a sacrifice of sentiments, but of 
affections : it is not the tribute of fear extorted 
from a slave, but the voluntary homage of love 
paid by a child. 

Neither does a Christian's piety consist in 
living in retreat, and railing at the practices of 
the world, while, perhaps, her heart is full of 
the spirit of that world at which she is railing ; 
but it consists in subduing the spirit of the 
world, resisting its temptations, and opposing 
its practices, even while her duty obliges her to 
live in it. 

Nor is the spirit or the love of the world con- 
fined to those only who are making a figure in 
it ; nor are its operations bounded by the pre- 
cincts of the metropolis, nor by the limited re- 
gions of first-rate rank and splendor. She who 
inveighs against the luxury and excesses of Lon- 
don, and solaces herself in her own comparative 
sobriety, because her more circumscribed for- 
tune compels her to take up with the second- 
hand pleasures of successive watering-places, if 
she pursue these pleasures with avidity, is gov- 
erned by the same spirit ; and she whose still 
narrower opportunities stint her to the petty di- 
versions of her provincial town, if she be busied 
in swelling and enlarging her smaller sphere of 
vanity and idleness, however she may comfort 
herself with her own comparative goodness, by 
railing at the unattainable pleasures of the 
watering-place, or the still more unapproacha- 
ble joys of the capital, is governed by the same 
spirit ; for she who is as vain, as dissipated, 



364 ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 

and as extravagant as actual circumstances ad- 
mit, would be as vain, as dissipated, and as ex- 
travagant as the gayest objects of her invective 
actually are, if she could change places with 
them. It is not merely by what we do, that we 
can be sure the spirit of the world has no do- 
minion over us, but by fairly considering what 
we should probably do, if more were in our 
power. 

The worldly Christian, if I may be allowed 
such a palpable contradiction in terms, must not 
imagine that she acquits herself of her religious 
obligations by paying in her mere weekly obla- 
tion of prayer. There is no covenant by which 
communion with God is restricted to an hour or 
two on the Sunday ; she must not imagine she 
acquits herself by setting apart a few particular 
days in the year for the exercise of a periodical 
devotion, and then flying back to the world as 
eagerly as if she were resolved to repay herself 
with large interest for her short fit of self-denial ; 
the stream of pleasure running with a more 
rapid current, from having been interrupted by 
this forced obstruction. And the avidity with 
which we have seen certain persons of a still 
less correct character than the class we have 
been considering, return to a whole year's car- 
nival, after the self-imposed penance of a Pas- 
sion week, gives a shrewd intimation that they 
considered the temporary abstraction less as an 
act of penitence for the past, than as a purchase 
of indemnity for the future. Such bare-weight 
Protestants prudently condition for retaining the 
popish doctrine of indulgences, which they buy, 
not indeed of the late spiritual court of Rome, 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 365 

but of that secret, self-acquitting judge, which 
ignorance of its own turpitude, and of the strict 
requirements of the divine law, has established 
supreme in the tribunal of every unrenewed 
heart. 

But the practice of self-examination is imped- 
ed by one clog, which renders it peculiarly in- 
convenient to the gay and worldly ; for the 
royal prophet (who was, however, himself as 
likely as any one to be acquainted with the diffi- 
culties peculiar to greatness) has annexed as a 
concomitant to " communing with our own 
heart," that we should " be still." Now, this 
clause of the injunction annihilates the other, 
by rendering it incompatible with the present 
habits of fashionable life, of which stillness is 
clearly not one of the constituents. It would, 
however, greatly assist those who do not alto- 
gether decline the practice, if they were to es- 
tablish into a rule the habit of detecting certain 
suspicious practices, by realizing them, as it 
were, to their own minds, through the means of 
drawing them out in detail, and of placing them 
before their eyes clothed in language ; for there 
is nothing that so effectually exposes an absur- 
dity which has hitherto passed muster for want 
of such an inquisition, as giving it shape, and 
form, and body. How many things which now 
silently work themselves into the habit, and 
pass current without inquiry, would then shock 
us by their palpable inconsistency ? Who, for 
instance, could stand the sight of such a debtor 
and creditor account as this : " Item ; so many 
card-parties, balls, and operas due to me in the 
following year, for so many manuals, prayers^ 



366 ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 

and meditations, paid beforehand during the 
last six days in Lent?" With how much in- 
dignation soever this suggestion may be treated ; 
whatever offence may be taken at such a com- 
bination of the serious and the ludicrous ; how- 
ever we may revolt at the idea of such a compo- 
sition with our Maker, when put into so many 
words : does not the habitual course of some go 
near to realize such a statement? 

But " a Christian's race," as a venerable pre- 
late* observes, is not run at so many " heats,'' 
but is a constant course, a regular progress by 
which we are continually gaining ground upon 
sin, and approaching nearer to the kingdom of 
God. 

Am I then ridiculing this pious seclusion of 
contrite sinners ? am I then jesting at that 
" troubled spirit," which God has declared is 
his " acceptable sacrifice ?" God forbid ! Such 
reasonable retirements have been the practice, 
and continue to be the comfort, of some of the 
sincerest Christians ; and will continue to be 
resorted to as long as Christianity, that is, as 
long as the world, shall last. It is well to call 
off the thoughts, even for a short time, not only 
from sin and vanity, but even from the lawful 
pursuits of business and the laudable concerns 
of life ; and, at times, to annihilate, as it were, 
the space which divides us from eternity : 

'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours, 

And a-k them what report they bore to heaven, 

And how they might have borne more welcome news. 

Yet as to those who seek a short annual re- 
treat as a mere form ; who dignify with the 

* Bishop Hopkins. 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 367 

idea of a religious retirement a week in which 
it is rather unfashionable to be seen in town ; 
who retire, with an unabated resolution to re- 
turn to the maxims, the pleasures, and the spirit 
of that world which they do but mechanically 
renounce ; is it not to be feared that this short 
secession, which does not even pretend to sub- 
due the principle, but merely suspends the act, 
may only serve to set a keener edge on the ap- 
petite for the pleasures they are quitting 1 Is 
it not to be feared that the bow may fly back 
with redoubled violence, from having been un- 
naturally bent 1 that by varnishing over a life 
of vanity with the transient externals of a for- 
mal and temporary piety, they may the more 
dangerously skin over the troublesome soreness 
of a tender conscience, by 

This flattering unction to the soul ? 

And is it not awfully to be apprehended that 
such devotions come in among those vain obla- 
tions which the Almighty has declared he will 
not accept ? For is it not among the delusions 
of a worldly piety, to consider Christianity as a 
thing which cannot, indeed, safely be omitted, 
but which is to be got over ; a certain quantity 
of which is, as it were, to be taken in the lump, 
with long intervals between the repetitions? Is 
it not among its delusions, to consider religion 
as imposing a set of hardships, which must be 
occasionally encountered, in order to procure a 
peaceable enjoyment of the long respite ? — a 
short penalty for a long pleasure 1 that these 
severe conditions, thus fulfilled, the acquitted 
Christian having paid the annual demand of a 



368 ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 

rigorous requisition, she may now lawfully re- 
turn to her natural state ; the old reckoning 
being adjusted, she may begin a new score, and 
receive the reward of her punctual obedience, 
in the resumed indulgence of those gratifica- 
tions which she had for a short time laid aside 
as a hard task to please a hard master ; but this 
task performed, and the master appeased, the 
mind may discover its natural bent, in joyfully 
returning to the objects of its real choice ? 
Whereas, is it not clear, on the other hand, 
that, if the religious exercises had produced the 
effect which it is the nature of true religion to 
produce, the penitent could not return with her 
old genuine alacrity to those habits of the world, 
from which the pious weekly manuals through 
which she has been laboring with the punctu- 
ality of an almanac as to the day, and the accu- 
racy of a bead-roll as to the number, were in- 
tended by the devout authors to rescue their 
reader 1 

I am far from insinuating, that this literal 
sequestration ought to be prolonged throughout 
the year, or that all the days of business are to 
be made equally days of solemnity and con- 
tinued meditation. This earth is a place in 
which a much larger portion of a common Chris- 
tian's time must be assigned to action than to 
contemplation. Women of the higher class 
were not sent into the world to shun society, 
but to improve it. They were not designed for 
the cold and visionary virtues of solitudes and 
monasteries, but for the amiable, and endear- 
ing, and useful offices of social life : they are of 
a religion which does not impose idle austeri- 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 369 

ties, but enjoins active duties; a religion which 
demands the most benevolent actions, and which 
requires them to be sanctified by the purest mo- 
tives ; a religion which does not condemn its 
followers to the comparatively easy task of se- 
clusion from the world, but assigns them the 
more difficult province of living uncorrupted in 
it; a religion which, while it forbids them " to 
follow a multitude to do evil," includes in that 
prohibition the sin of doing nothing, and which, 
moreover, enjoins them to be followers of Him 
" who went about doing good." 

But may we not reasonably contend, that, 
though the same sequestration is not required, 
yet that the same spirit and temper which we 
would hope is thought necessary even by those 
on whom we are animadverting, during the occa- 
sional humility, must, by every real Christian, 
be extended throughout all the periods of the 
year ? And when that is really the case, when 
once the spirit of religion shall indeed govern 
the heart, it will not only animate her religious 
actions, and employments, but will gradually 
extend itself to the chastising her conversation, 
will discipline her thoughts, influence her com- 
mon business, restrain her indulgences, and 
sanctify her very pleasures. 

But it seems that many, who entertain a gen- 
eral notion of Christian duty, do not consider it 
as of universal and unremitting obligation, but 
rather as a duty binding at times on all, and at 
all times on some. To the attention Gf such we 
would recommend that very explicit address of 
our Lord on the subject of self-denial, the tem- 
per directly opposed to a worldly spirit : " And 
32 



370 ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 

he said unto them all, If any man will come 
after me, let him deny himself, and take up his 
cross daily." Those who think self-denial not 
of universal obligation, will observe the word 
all; and those who think the obligation not 
constant, will attend to the term daily. These 
two little words cut up by the root all the occa- 
sional religious observances grafted on a world- 
ly life ; all transient, periodical, and temporary 
acts of piety, which some seem willing to com- 
mute for a life of habitual thoughtlessness and 
vanity. 

There is, indeed, scarcely a more pitiable 
being than one who, instead of making her re- 
ligion the informing principle of all she does, 
has only just enough to keep her in continual 
fear ; who drudges through her stinted exer- 
cises with a superstitious kind of terror, while 
her general life shows that the love of holiness is 
not the governing principle in her heart; who 
seems to suffer all the pains and penalties of 
Christianity, but is a stranger to " that liberty 
wherewith Christ has made us free." Let it 
not be thought a ludicrous invention, if the au- 
thor hazard the producing a real illustration of 
these remarks, in the instance of a lady of this 
stamp, who, returning from church on a very 
cold day, and remarking, with a good deal of 
self-complacency, how much she had suffered 
in the performance of her duty, comforted her- 
self with emphatically adding, " that she hoped, 
however, it would answer." 

There is this striking difference between the 
real and the worldly Christian ; the former does 
not complain of the strictness of the divine law, 



Ox\ A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 371 

but of the deficiencies of his own performance; 
while the worldly Christian is little troubled at 
his own failures, but deplores the strictness of 
the divine requisitions. The one wishes that 
God would expect less ; the other prays for 
strength to do more. When the worldly per- 
son hears real Christians speak of their own 
low state, and acknowledge their extreme un- 
worthiness, he really believes them to be worse 
than those who make no such humiliating con- 
fessions. He does not know that a mind which 
is at once deeply convinced of its own corrup- 
tions, and of the purity of the divine law, is so 
keenly alive to the perception of all sin as to be 
humbled by the commission of such as is com- 
paratively small, and which those who have less 
correct views of gospel truth hardly allow to be 
sin at all. Such an one, with Job, says, " Now 
mine eye seeth Thee." 

But there is no permanent comfort in any re- 
ligion short of that by which the diligent Chris- 
tian strives that all his actions shall have the 
love of God for their motive, and the glory of 
God, as well as his own salvation, for their end ; 
while to go about to balance our good and bad 
actions one against the other, and to take com- 
fort in the occasional predominance of the for- 
mer, while the cultivation of the principle from 
which they should spring is neglected, is not 
the road to all those peaceful fruits of the Spirit 
to which true Christianity conducts the humble 
and penitent believer. For, after all we can do, 
Christian tempers and a Christian spirit are the 
true criterion of a Christian character, and serve 
to furnish the most unequivocal test of our at- 



372 ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 

tainments in religion. Our doctrines may be 
sound, but they may not be influential ; our ac- 
tions may be correct, but they may want the 
sanctifying principle ; our frames and feelings 
may see?/z, nay, they may be devout, but they 
may be heightened by mere animal fervor ; even 
if genuine, they are seldom lasting; and to 
many pious persons they are not given : it is, 
therefore, the Christian tempers which most in- 
fallibly indicate the sincere Christian, and best 
prepare him for the heavenly state. 

I am aware that a better cast of characters 
than those we have been contemplating ; that 
even the amiable and the well-disposed, who, 
while they want courage to resist what they 
have too much principle to think right, and too 
much sense to justify, will yet plead for the 
palliating system, and accuse these remarks of 
unnecessary rigor. They will declare " that 
really they are as religious as they can be ; 
they wish they were better ; they have little 
satisfaction in the life they are leading, yet they 
cannot break with the world ; they cannot fly 
in the face of custom ; it does not become indi- 
viduals like them to oppose the torrent of fash- 
ion." Beings so interesting, abounding with 
engaging qualities, who not only feel the beauty 
of goodness, but reverence the truths of Chris- 
tianity, and are awfully looking for a general 
judgment, we are grieved to hear lament " that 
they only do as others do/' when they are, per- 
haps, themselves of such rank and importance, 
that if they would begin to do right, others 
would be brought to do as they did. We are 
grieved to hear them indolently assert, that 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 373 

" they wish it were otherwise/' when they pos- 
sess the power to make it otherwise, by setting 
an example which they know would be follow- 
ed. We are sorry to hear them content them- 
selves with declaring, that " they have not the 
courage to be singular," when they must feel, 
by seeing the influence of their example in 
worse things, that there would be no such great 
singularity in piety itself, if once they became 
sincerely pious. Besides, this diffidence does 
not break out on other occasions. They do not 
blush to be quoted as the opposers of an old 
mode, or the inventors of a new one ; nor are 
they equally backward in being the first to ap- 
pear in a strange fashion, such a one as often 
excites wonder, and sometimes even offends 
against delicacy. Let not, then, diffidence be 
pleaded as an excuse only on occasions wherein 
courage would be virtue. 

Will it be thought too harsh a question, if we 

venture to ask these gentle characters who are 

... 
thus entrenching themselves in the imaginary 

safety of surrounding multitudes, and who say, 
" We only do as others do," whether they are 
willing to run the tremendous risk of conse- 
quences, and to fare as others fare ? 

But, while these plead the authority of fashion 
as a sufficient reason for their conformity to the 
world, one who has spoken with a paramount 
authority has positively said, " Be ye not con- 
formed to the world." Nay, it is urged as the 
very badge and distinction by which the charac- 
ter opposite to the Christian is to be marked, 
" that the friendship of the world is enmity with 
God." 

32* 



374 ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 

Temptation to conform to the world was 
never, perhaps, more irresistible than in the days 
which immediately preceded the deluge ; and 
no man could ever have pleaded the fashion in 
order to justify a criminal assimilation with the 
reigning manners, with more propriety than the 
patriarch Noah. He had the two grand and 
contending objects of terror to encounter which 
we have—the fear of ridicule, and the fear of 
destruction ; the dread of sin, and the dread of 
singularity. Our cause of alarm is at least 
equally pressing with his ; for it does not ap- 
pear, even while he was actually obeying the 
divine command, in providing the means of his 
future safety, that he saw any actual symptoms 
of the impending ruin. So that, in one sense, 
lie might have truly pleaded, as an excuse for 
slackness of preparation, " that all things con- 
tinued as they were from the beginning ;" while 
many of us, though the storm is actually begun, 
never think of providing the refuge : it is true 
he was " warned of God," and he provided " by 
faith." But are not we also warned of God 1 
have we not had a fuller revelation ? have we 
not seen Scripture illustrated, prophecy fulfill- 
ing, with every awful circumstance that can 
either quicken the most sluggish remissness, or 
confirm the feeblest faith ? 

Besides, the patriarch's plea for following the 
fashion was stronger than you can produce. 
"While you must see that many are going wrong, 
he saw that none were going right. " All flesh 
had corrupted his way before God ;" whilst, 
blessed be God ! you have still instances enough 
of piety, to keep you in countenance. While 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 375 

you lament that the world seduces you (for 
every one has a little world of his own,) your 
world, perhaps, is only a petty neighborhood, a 
few streets and squares ; but the patriarch had 
really the contagion of a whole united world to 
resist ; he had, literally, the example of the 
whole face of the earth to oppose. The " fear 
of man," also, would then have been a more 
pardonable fault, when the lives of the same in- 
dividuals who were likely to excite respect or 
fear was prolonged many ages, than it can be 
in the short period now assigned to human life. 
How lamentable, then, that human opinion 
should operate so powerfully, when it is but the 
breath of a being so frail and so short-lived, 

That he doth cease to be. 
Ere one can say he is ! 

You, who find it so difficult to withstand the 
individual allurement of one modish acquaint- 
ance, would, if you had been in the patriarch's 
case, have concluded the struggle to be quite 
ineffectual, and sunk under the supposed fruit- 
lessness of resistance. " Myself," would you 
not have said ? " or, at most, my little family of 
eight persons, can never hope to stop this tor- 
rent of corruption : I lament the fruitlessness of 
opposition ; I deplore the necessity of conformi- 
ty with the prevailing system ; but it would be 
a foolish presumption to hope that one family 
can effect a change in the state of the world." 
In your own case, however, it is not certain to 
how wide an extent the hearty union of even 
fewer persons, in such a cause, might reach ; 
at least, is it nothing to do what the patriarch 



376 ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 

did ? was it nothing to preserve himself from 
the general destruction ? was it nothing to de- 
liver his own soul 1 was it nothing to rescue the 
souls of his whole family ? 

A wise man will never differ from the world 
in trifles. It is certainly a mark of a sound 
judgment to comply with custom, whenever we 
safely can : such compliance strengthens our 
influence, by reserving to ourselves the greater 
weight of authority on those occasions when 
our conscience obliges us to differ. Those who 
are prudent will cheerfully conform to all the 
innocent usages of the world ; but those who 
are Christians will be scrupulous in defining 
which are really innocent, previous to their con- 
formity to them. Not what the world, but what 
the gospel calls innocent, will be found, at the 
grand scrutiny, to have been really so. A dis- 
creet Christian will take due pains to be con- 
vinced he is right, before he will presume to be 
singular ; but, from the instant he is persuaded 
that the gospel is true, and the world of course 
wrong, he will no ionger risk his safety by fol- 
lowing multitudes, or hazard his soul by staking 
it on human opinion. All our most dangerous 
mistakes arise from our not constantly referring 
our practice to the standard of Scripture, in- 
stead of the mutable standard of human estima- 
tion, by which it is impossible to fix the real 
value of characters. For this latter standard, 
in some cases, determines those to be good who 
do not run all the lengths in which the notori- 
ously bad allow themselves. The gospel has an 
universal, the world has a local standard of 
goodness : in certain societies certain vices 



ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 377 

alone are dishonorable, such as covetousness 
and cowardice ; while those sins of which our 
Saviour has said, that they which commit them 
" shall not inherit the kingdom of God," de- 
tract nothing from the respect some persons re- 
ceive. Nay, those very characters whom the 
Almighty has expressly and awfully declared 
" he will judge,"* are received, are admired, 
are caressed, in that which calls itself the best 
company. 

But to weigh our actions by one standard 
now, when we know they will be judged by an- 
other hereafter, would be reckoned the height 
of absurdity in any transactions but those which 
involve the interests of eternity. " How read- 
est thou ?" is a more specific direction than any 
comparative view of our own habits with the 
habits of others ; and at the final bar, it will be 
of little avail that our actions have risen above 
those of bad men, if our views and principles 
shall be found to have been in opposition to the 
gospel of Christ. 

Nor is their practice more commendable, 
who are ever on the watch to pick out the worst 
actions of good men, by way of justifying their 
own conduct on the comparison. The faults of 
the best men, " for there is not a just man upon 
earth who sinneth not," can in no wise justify 
the errors of the worst ; and it is not, invaria- 
bly, the example of even good men that we 
must take for our unerring rule of conduct ; 
nor is it by a single action that either they or 
we shall be judged ; for in that case, who could 

* Hebrews xiii. 4. 



378 



DOCTRINES OF CHRISTIANITY. 



be saved ? but it is by the general prevalence 
of right principles, and good habits, and Chris- 
tian tempers ; by the predominance of holiness, 
and righteousness, and temperance in the life, 
and by the power of humility, faith, and love in 
the heart. 



CHAPTER XX. 

On the leading doctrines of Christianity-. — The corruption of 
human nature. — The doctrine of redemption. — The necessity 
of a change of heart, and of the divine influences to produce 
that change. — With a sketch of the Christian character. 

The author having, in this little work, taken 
a view of the false notions often imbibed in 
early life from a bad education, and of their 
pernicious effects ; and having attempted to 
point out the respective remedies to these, she 
would now draw all that has been said to a point, 
and declare plainly what she humbly conceives 
to be the source whence all these false notions 
and this wrong conduct really proceed. The 
prophet Jeremiah shall answer : It is because 
they have " forsaken the Fountain of living 
waters, and have hewn out to themselves cis- 
terns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water." 
It is an ignorance, past belief, of what true 
Christianity really is : the remedy, therefore, 
and the only remedy that can be applied with 



DOCTRINES OF CHRISTIANITY. 379 

any prospect of success, is religion, and by re- 
ligion she would be understood to mean the 
gospel of Jesns Christ. 

It has been before hinted, that religion should 
be taught at an early period of life ; that chil- 
dren should be brought up " in the nurture and 
admonition of the Lord." The maimer in which 
they should be taught has likewise, with great 
plainness, been suggested : that it should be 
done in so lively and familiar a manner as to 
make religion amiable, and her ways to appear, 
what they really are, " ways of pleasantness." 
And a slight sketch has been given of the 
genius of Christianity, by which her amiable- 
ness would more clearly appear. But this, be- 
ing a subject of such vast importance, compared 
with which every other subject sinks into noth- 
ing, it seems not sufficient to speak on the doc- 
trines and duties of Christianity in detached 
parts ; but it is of importance to point out, 
though in a brief and imperfect manner, the 
mutual dependence of one doctrine upon an- 
other, and the influence which these doctrines 
have upon the heart and life, so that the duties 
of Christianity may be seen to grow out of its 
doctrines ; by which it will appear that Chris- 
tian virtue differs essentially from pagan : it is 
of a quite different kind ; the plant itself is dif- 
ferent ; it comes from a different root, and grows 
in a different soil. 

It will be seen how the humbling doctrine of 
the corruption of human nature, which has fol- 
lowed from the corruption of our first parents, 
makes way for the bright display of redeeming 
love. How, from the abasing thought that " we 



3-0 Docn vy. 

are all as sheep going a* one in his 

own that none t Shep- 

herd of our sools, "e • Father draw 

him;" that "the natuf an cannot receive 

the things I ley are spirit- 

ual]}' discerned : :: how, iron je hnmiliating 
views or" the helpless as well as the corrup- 

tion of banian nal are to turn to that 

animating doctrine, the offer of divine c 
ana:. 8 . e will ap- 

rraded state. 
and -. - • tly o/2 bav* c« se foi humility, 
yet not one h; b can * foi d - >air; the disease. 
indee< but a P d is at hand, 

both ing to i 

are n; ;; help is laid 

upon One that i - 

5C er to as o - te, it d! 

the means of oar divine in ge 

and favor. It not ;rs, but impresses 

this image ; it not only - the description, 

but the attainment of th m ; and while the 

word of God suggests the rented] . lis .Spirit ap- 
plies it. 

We should observe, then, that the doctrines 
of our Saviour are. if I tn< v so e eak, with a 
beautify : tency, j into one p 

We should ; . of their reciprocal 

dependence, as to he per [>uta 

deep sense of our € can 

never aerioi . in a Saviour, because 

e belief in Him 
must always e from the conviction of our 

want of Him ; that without a firm persuasion 
that the Holy Spirit can alone restore our falien 



HUMAN CORRUPTION. 381 

nature, repair the ruins of sin, and renew the 
image of God upon the heart, we never shall be 
brought to serious humble prayer for repentance 
and restoration ; and that, without this repent- 
ance, there is no salvation ; for though Christ 
has died for us, and consequently to him alone 
we must look as a Saviour, yet he has himself 
declared that he will save none but true peni- 
tents. 

On the doctrine of human corruption. 

To come now to a more particular statement 
of these doctrines. When an important edifice 
is about to be erected, a wise builder will dig 1 
deep, and look well to the foundations, know- 
ing, that, without this, the fabric will not be 
likely to stand. The foundation of the Chris- 
tian religion, out of which the whole structure 
may be said to arise, appears to be the doctrine 
of the fall of man from his original state of 
righteousness ; and the corruption and helpless- 
ness of human nature, which are the consequen- 
ces of this fall, and which is the natural state of 
every one born into the world. To this doc- 
trine it is important to conciliate the minds, 
more especially of young persons, who are pe- 
culiarly disposed to turn away from it as a mo- 
rose, unamiable, and gloomy idea. They are 
apt to accuse those who are more strict and 
serious, of unnecessary severity, and to suspect 
them of thinking unjustly ill of mankind. Some 
of the reasons which prejudice the inexperienced 
against the doctrine in question appear to be 
the following : — 

Young persons themselves have seen little of 
33 



382 HUMAN CORRUPTION. 

the world. In pleasurable society, the world 
puts on its most amiable appearance ; and that 
softness and urbanity which prevail, particularly 
amongst persons of fashion, are liable to be 
taken for more than they are really worth. The 
opposition to this doctrine in the young, arises 
partly from ingenuousness of heart, partly from 
a habit of indulging themselves in favorable 
suppositions respecting the world, rather than 
of pursuing truth, which is always the grand 
thing to be pursued ; and partly from the popu- 
larity of the tenet, that every body is so won- 
derfully good ! 

This error in youth has, however, a still 
deeper foundation, which is their not having a 
right standard of moral good and evil them- 
selves, in consequence of their already partak- 
ing of the very corruption which is spoken of, 
and which, in perverting the will, darkens the 
understanding also ; they are therefore apt to 
have no very strict sense of duty, or of the ne- 
cessity of a right and religious motive to every 
act. 

Moreover, young people usually do not know 
themselves. Not having yet been much ex- 
posed to temptation, owing to the prudent re- 
straints in which they have been kept, they little 
suspect to what lengths in vice they themselves 
are liable to be transported, nor how far others 
actually are carried who are set free from those 
restraints. 

Having laid down these as some of the causes 
of error on this point, I proceed to observe on 
what strong grounds the doctrine itself stands. 

Profane history abundantly confirms this 



HUMAN CORRUPTION. 383 

truth ; the history of the world being, in fact, 
little else than the history of the crimes of the 
human race. Even though the annals of re- 
mote ages lie so involved in obscurity, that some 
degree of uncertainty attaches itself to many of 
the events recorded, yet this one melancholy 
truth is always clear, that most of the miseries 
which have been brought upon mankind, have 
proceeded from this general depravity. 

The world we now live in furnishes abundant 
proof of this truth. In a world formed on the 
deceitful theory of those who assert the inno- 
cence and dignity of man, almost all the profes- 
sions, since they would have been rendered 
useless by such a state of innocence, would not 
have existed. Without sin, we may nearly pre- 
sume there would have been no sickness ; so 
that every medical professor is a standing evi- 
dence of this sad truth. Sin not only brought 
sickness but death into the world ; consequent- 
ly, every funeral presents a more irrefragable 
argument than a thousand sermons. Had man 
persevered in his original integrity, there could 
have been no litigation, for there would be no 
contests about property, in a world where none 
would be inclined to attack it. Professors of 
law, therefore, from the attorney who prose- 
cutes for a trespass, to the pleader who defends 
a criminal, or the judge who condemns him, 
loudly confirm the doctrine. Every victory by 
sea or land should teach us to rejoice with hu- 
miliation, for conquest itself brings a terrible 
though splendid attestation to the truth of the 
fall of man. 

Even those who deny the doctrine, act uni- 



384 HUMAN CORRUPTION. 

versally, more or Jess, on the principle. Why 
do we all secure our houses with bolts, and 
bars, and locks? Do we take these steps to 
defend our Jives or property from any particu- 
lar fear 1 from any suspicion of this neighbor, 
or that servant, or the other invader ? No ! It 
is from a practical conviction of the common 
depravity ; from a constant, pervading, but un- 
defined dread of impending evil arising from the 
sense of general corruption. Are not prisons 
built, and laws enacted, on the same practical 
principle ? 

But, not to descend to the more degraded 
part of our species : Why, in the fairest trans- 
action of business, is nothing executed without 
bonds, receipts, and notes of hand ? Why does 
not a perfect confidence in the dignity of hu- 
man nature abolish all these securities; if not 
between enemies, or people indifferent to eacli 
other, yet at least between friends and kindred, 
and the most honorable connections ? why, but 
because of that universal suspicion between man 
and man, which, by all we see, and hear, and 
feel, is become interwoven with our very make'? 
Though we do not entertain any individual sus- 
picion, nay, though we have the strongest per- 
sonal confidence, yet the acknowledged princi- 
ple of conduct has this doctrine for its basis. 
" I will take a receipt, though it were from my 
brother," is the established voice of mankind ; 
or, as I have heard it more artfully put, by a 
faJJacy of which the very disguise discovers the 
principle, " Think every man honest, but deal 
with him as if you knew him to be otherwise." 
And, as in a state of innocence, the beasts, it is 



HUMAN CORRUPTION. 385 

presumed, would not have bled for the susten- 
ance of man, so their parchments would not have 
been wanted as instruments of his security 
against his fellow man.* 

But the grand arguments for this doctrine 
must be drawn from the Holy Scriptures ; and 
these, besides implying it almost continually, 
expressly assert it, and that in instances too nu- 
merous to be all of them brought forward here. 
Of these, may I be allowed to produce a few 1 
" God saw that the wickedness of man was 
great, and that every imagination of the thoughts 
of his heart was only evil continually;" — "God 
looked upon the earth, and, behold, it was cor- 
rupt ; for all flesh had corrupted his way upon 
the earth. And it repented the Lord that he 
had made man on the earth, and it grieved him 
at his heart. "f This is a picture of mankind 
before the flood, and the doctrine receives addi- 
tional confirmation in Scripture, when it speaks 
of the times which followed after that tremen- 
dous judgment had taken place. The psalms 
abound in lamentations on the depravity of man. 
" They are all gone aside ; there is none that 
doeth good, no, not one." " In thy sight," says 
David, addressing the Most High, " shall no 
man living be justified." Job, in his usual lofty 
strain of interrogation, asks, " What is man, 

* Bishop Butler distinctly declares this truth to be evident, 
from experience as well as revelation, " that this world exhibits 
an idea of a ruin ;'" and lie will hazard much who ventures to 
assert that Butler defended Christianity upon principles unconso- 
nant to reason, -philosophy, or sound experience. 

[Dr. Joseph Butler, bishop of Durham. He died in 1751. See 
his unanswerable treatise, " The Analogy of Natural and Reveal- 
ed Religion." — Ed.] 

| Genesis vi. 

33* 



386 HUMAN CORRUPTION. 

that he should be clean ? and he that is born of 
a woman, that he should be righteous? Be- 
hold, the heavens are not clean in His sicrht : 
how much more abominable and filthy is man, 
who drinketh iniquity like water !"* 

Nor do the Scriptures speak of this corrup- 
tion as arising only from occasional temptation, 
or from mere extrinsic causes. The wise man 
tells us, that " foolishness is bound up in the 
heart of a child ;" the prophet Jeremiah assures 
us, " the heart is deceitful above all things, and 
desperately wicked ; and David plainly states 
the doctrine — " Behold, I was shapen in iniqui- 
ty, and in sin did my mother conceive me." 
Can language be more explicit? 

The New Testament corroborates the Old. 
Our Lord's reproof of Peter seems to take the 
doctrine for granted ; " Thou savorest not the 
things that be of God, but those that be of man ;" 
clearly intimating, that the ways of man are op- 
posite to the ways of God. And our Saviour, 
in that affecting discourse to his disciples, ob- 
serves to them, that, as they were, by his grace, 
made different from others, therefore they must 
expect to be hated by those who were so unlike 
them. And it should be particularly observed, 
as another proof that the world is wicked, that 
our Lord considered " the world" as opposed to 
him and to his disciples. " If ye were of the 
world, the world would love its own ; but I have 



* Perhaps one reason why the faults of the most eminent saints 
are recorded in Scripture, is to add fresh confirmation to this doc- 
trine. If Abraham, Moses, Noah, Elijah, David, and Peter sin- 
ned, who shall we presume to say has escaped the universal 
taint ? 



HUMAN CORRUPTION. 387 

chosen you out of the world, therefore the 
world hateth you."* St. John, writing to his 
Christian church, states the same truth : " We 
know that we are of God, and the whole world 
lieth in wickedness." 

Man, in his natural and unbelieving state, is 
likewise represented as in a state of guilt, and 
under the displeasure of Almighty God. " He 
that believeth not the Son shall not see life, but 
the wrath of God abideth on him." 

Here, however, if it be objected, that the 
heathen who never heard of the gospel will not 
assuredly be judged by it, the Saviour's answer 
to such curious inquirers concerning the state 
of others is, " Strive to enter in at the strait 
gate." It is enough for us to believe that God, 
who will " judge the world in righteousness," 
will judge all men according to their opportu- 
nities. The heathen, to whom he has not sent 
the light of the gospel, will probably not be 
judged by the gospel. But with whatever 
mercy he may judge those who, living in a land 
of darkness, are without knowledge of his- re- 
vealed law, our business is not with them, but 
with ourselves. It is our business to consider 
what mercy he will extend to those who, living 
in a Christian country, abounding with means 
and ordinances, where. the gospel is preached 
in its purity ; it is our business to inquire how 
he will deal with those who shut their eyes to 
its beams, who close their ears to its truths. 
For an unbeliever, who has passed his life in 
the meridian of Scripture light, or for an out- 

* John xv. 19. 



388 HUMAN CORRUPTION. 

ward but unfruitful professor of Christianity, I 
know not what hope the gospel holds out. 

The natural state of man is again thus des- 
cribed : " The carnal mind is enmity against 
God; (awful thought!) for it is not subject to 
the law of God, neither indeed can be. So, 
then, they that are in the flesh cannot please 
God." What the apostle means by being in 
the flesh, is evident by what follows ; for, speak- 
ing of those whose hearts were changed by di- 
vine grace, he says, " But ye are not in the 
flesh, but in the spirit, if so be that the Spirit 
of God dwell in you ;" that is, you are not now 
in your natural state ; the change that has pass- 
ed on your minds by the influence of the Spirit 
of God is so great, that your state may properly 
be called " being in the Spirit." It may be 
further observed, that the same apostle, writing 
to the churches of Galatia, tells them, that the 
natural corruption of the human heart is con- 
tinually opposing the Spirit of holiness which 
influences the regenerate. " The flesh lusteth 
against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the 
flesh, and these are contrary the one to the 
other ;" which passage, by the way, at the 
same time that it proves the corruption of the 
heart, proves the necessity of divine influences. 
And the apostle, with respect to himself, freely 
confesses and deeply laments the workings of 
this corrupt principle : " O wretched man that 
I am, who shall deliver me from the body of 
this death V 

It has been objected by some who have op- 
posed this doctrine, that the same Scriptures 
which speak of mankind as being sinners) 



HUMAN CORRUPTION. 389 

speak of some as being righteous ; and hence 
they would argue, that though this depravity of 
human nature may be general, yet it cannot be 
universal. This objection, when examined, 
serves only, like all other objections against the 
truth, to establish that which it was intended to 
destroy. For what do the Scriptures assert re- 
specting the righteous ? That there are some 
whose principles, views, and conduct are so 
different from the rest of the world, and from 
what theirs themselves once were, that these 
persons are honored with the peculiar title of 
the " sons of God." But no where do the 
Scriptures assert that even these are sinless ; 
on the contrary, their faults are frequently men- 
tioned ; and persons of this class are, moreover, 
represented as those on whom a great change 
has passed ; as having been formerly " dead in 
trespasses and sins ;" but as " being now called 
out of darkness into light;" as translated into 
the kingdom of " God's dear Son ;" as " having 
passed from death unto life." And St. Paul 
put this matter past all doubt, by expressly as- 
serting, that " they were all by nature the chil- 
dren of wrath, even as others." 

It might be weii to ask certain persons, who 
oppose the doctrine in question, and who also 
seem to talk as if they thought there were many 
sinless peopie in the world, how they expect 
that such sinless people will be saved (though 
indeed to talk of an innocent person being 
saved involves a palpable contradiction in terms, 
of which those who use the expression do not 
seem to be aware : it is talking of curing a man 
already in health). " Undoubtedly," such will 



390 HUMAN CORRUPTION. 

say, " they will be received into those abodes 
of bliss prepared for the righteous." — But be it 
remembered, there is but one way to these 
blissful abodes, and that is, through Jesus 
Christ : " For there is none other name given 
among men whereby we must be saved." If 
we ask, Whom did Christ come to save ? the 
Scripture directly answers, " He came into the 
world to save sinners :" " His name was called 
Jesus, because he came to save his people from 
their sins." When St. John was favored with a 
heavenly vision, he tells us, that he beheld " a 
great multitude which no man could number, of 
all nations, and kindred, and people, and 
tongues, standing before the throne, and before 
the Lamb, clothed with white robes ;" that one 
of the heavenly inhabitants informed him who 
they were ; " These are they who came out of 
great tribulation, and have washed their robes, 
and made them white in the blood of the Lamb ; 
therefore are they before the throne of God, and 
serve him day and night in his temple ; and he 
that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among 
them : they shall hunger no more, neither thirst 
any more, neither shall the sun light on them, 
nor any heat ; for the Lamb which is in the 
midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall 
lead them to living fountains of waters, and 
God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." 
We may gather from this description what 
these glorious and happy beings once were : 
they were sinful creatures ; their robes were 
not spotless ; " They had washed them, and 
made them white in the blood of the.JLamb." 
They are likewise generally represented as hav- 



HUMAN CORRUPTION. 391 

ing been once a suffering people ; they came 
out of great tribulation. They are described 
as having overcome the great tempter of man- 
kind, " by the blood of the Lamb ;"* as they 
who " follow the Lamb whithersoever he 
goeth ;" as " redeemed from among men."f 
And their employment in the regions of bliss is 
a further confirmation of the doctrine of which 
we are treating. " The great multitude," &c. 
&c, we are told, " stood and cried with a loud 
voice, " Salvation to our God, who sitteth upon 
the throne, and to the Lamb !" Here we see they 
ascribe their salvation to Christ, and, conse- 
quently, their present happiness to his atoning 
blood. And, in another of their celestial an- 
thems, they say, in like manner, " Thou wast 
slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy 
blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and 
people, and nation. "| 

By all this it is evident that men of any other 
description than redeemed sinners must gain ad- 
mittance to heaven some other way than that 
which the Scriptures point out ; and also that 
when they shall arrive there, so different will 
be their employment, that they must have an 
anthem peculiar to themselves. 

Nothing is more adapted to " the casting 
down of high imaginations," and to promote 
humility, than this reflection, that heaven is 
always, in Scripture, pointed out not as the re- 
ward of the innocent, but as the hope of the 
penitent. This, while it is calculated to " ex- 
clude boasting," the temper the most opposite 
to the gospel, is yet the most suited to afford 

* Rev. xii. 11. f R ev > xiv. 4. % Rev. v. 9. 



392 HUMAN CORRUPTION. 

comfort ; for, were heaven promised as the re- 
ward of innocence, who could attain to it ? 
but being, as it is, the promised portion of 
faith and repentance, purchased for us by the 
blood of Christ, and offered to every penitent 
believer, who is compelled to miss 'it? 

It is urged, that the belief of this doctrine 
of our corruption produces many'ill eifects, and 
therefore it should he discouraged. That it 
does not produce those ill effects, when not 
misunderstood or partially represented, we shall 
attempt to show ; at the same time, let it be ob- 
served, if it be really true, we must not. reject it 
on account of any of these supposed ill conse- 
quences. Truth may often be attended with 
disagreeable effects ; but if it be truth, it must 
still be pursued. If, for instance, treason should 
exist in a country, every one knows the disa- 
greeable effects which will follow such a convic- 
tion ; but our not believing such treason to exist, 
will not prevent such effect following it ; on the 
contrary, our believing it may prevent the fatal 
consequences. 

It is objected, that this doctrine debases and 
degrades human nature, and that finding fault 
with the building is only another way of finding 
fault with the architect. To the first part of 
this objection it may be remarked, that if man 
be really a corrupt, fallen being, it is proper to 
represent him as such : the fault then lies in 
the man^ and not in the doctrine, which only 
states the truth. As to the inference which is 
supposed to follow, namely, that it throws the 
fault upon the Creator, it proceeds upon the 
false supposition that man's present corrupt 



HUMAN CORRUPTION. 393 

state is the state in which he was originally 
created ; the contrary of which is the truth. 
" God made man upright, but he hath found 
out many inventions." 

It is likewise objected, that as this doctrine 
must give us such a bad opinion of mankind, it 
must consequently produce ill-will, hatred, and 
suspicion. But it should be remembered, that 
it gives us no worse an opinion of other men 
than it gives of ourselves ; and such views of 
ourselves have a very salutary effect, inasmuch 
as they have a tendency to produce humility ; 
and humility is not likely to produce ill-will to 
others, " for only from pride cometh conten- 
tion ;" and as to the views it gives us of man- 
kind, it represents us as felloiv-sufferers ; and 
surely the consideration that we are companions 
in misery, is not calculated to produce hatred. 
The truth is, these effects, where they have ac- 
tually followed, have followed from a false and 
partial view of the subject. 

Old persons who have seen much of the 
world, and who have little religion, are apt to 
be strong in their belief of man's actual corrup- 
tion ; but not taking it up on Christian grounds, 
this belief in them shows itself in a narrow and 
malignant temper, in uncharitable judgment 
and harsh opinions, in individual suspicion, and 
in too general a disposition to hatred. 

Suspicion and hatred, also, are the uses to 
which Rochefoucault* and the other French phi- 



* Francis, duke de la Rochefoucault, born in 1603, and died in 
1680. His "Reflections and Maxims" display an acute mind, 
and a great knowledge of mankind, but with a disposition too 
much inclined to satire. — Ed. 

34 



394 HUMAN CORRUPTION. 

losophers have converted this doctrine : their 
acute minds intuitively found the corruption of 
man, and they saw it without its concomitant and 
correcting doctrine ; they allowed man to be a 
depraved creature, bet disallowed his high orig- 
inal ; they found him in a low state, but did not 
conceive of him as having fallen from a better. 
They represent him rather as a brute than an 
apostate ; not taking into the account, that his 
present degraded nature and depraved faculties 
are not his original state : that he is not such 
as he came out of the hands of his Creator, but 
such as he has been made by sin. Nor do they 
know that he has not even now lost all remains 
of his primitive dignity, all traces of his divine 
original, but is still capable of a restoration 
more glorious 

Than is dreamt of in their philosophy. 

Perhaps, too, they know from what they feel, 
all the evil to which man is inclined ; but they 
do not know, for they have not felt, all the good 
of which he is capable by the superinduction of 
the divine principle : thus they asperse human 
nature instead of representing it fairly, and in 
so doing it is they who calumniate the great 
Creator. 

The doctrine of corruption is likewise ac- 
cused of being a gloomy, discouraging doctrine, 
and an enemy to joy and comfort. Now, sup- 
pose this objection true in its fullest extent : Is 
it any way unreasonable that a being, fallen 
into a state of sin, under the displeasure of al- 
mighty God, should feel seriously alarmed at 
being in such a state 1 Is the condemned crim- 



DOCTRINE OF REDEMPTION. 395 

inal blamed because he is not merry ? And 
would it be esteemed a kind action to persuade 
him that he is not condemned, in order to make 
him so 1 

But this charge is not true, in the sense in- 
tended by those who bring it forward. Those 
who believe this doctrine are not the most 
gloomy people. When, indeed, any one, by 
the influence of the Holy Spirit, is brought to 
view his state as it really is, a state of guilt and 
danger, it is natural t\v&t fear should be excited 
in his mind ; but it is such a fear as impels him 
" to flee from the wrath to come •" it is such a 
fear as moved Noah to " prepare an ark to the 
saving of his house." Such a one will likewise 
feel sorrow ; not, however, " the sorrow of the 
world which worketh death," but that godly 
sorrow which worketh repentance. Such a 
one is said to be driven to despair by this doc- 
trine ; but it is the despair of his own ability to 
save himself; it is that wholesome despair of 
his own merits, produced by conviction and hu- 
mility, which drives him to seek a better ref- 
uge ; and such a one is in a proper state to 
receive the glorious doctrine we are next about 
to contemplate ; namely, 

That God so loved the world, that he gave his 
only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth 
on him should not perish, but have everlast- 
ing life. 

Of this doctrine it is of the last importance 
to form just views ; for as it is the only doc- 
trine which can keep the humble penitent from 
despair, so, on the other hand, great care must 



396 DOCTRINE OP REDEMPTION. 

be taken that false views of it do not lead us to 
presumption. In order to understand it rightly, 
we must not fill our minds with our own rea- 
sonings upon it, which is the way in which 
some good people have been misled, but we 
must betake ourselves to the Scriptures, where- 
in we shall find the doctrines stated so plainly, 
as to show that the mistakes have not arisen 
from a want of clearness in the Scriptures, but 
from a desire to make it bend to some favorite 
notions. While it has been totally rejected by 
some, it has been so mutilated by others, as 
hardly to retain any resemblance to the Scrip- 
ture doctrine of redemption. We are told, in 
the beautiful passage last quoted, its source — 
the love of God to a lost world : who the Re- 
deemer was — the Son of God : the end for 
which this plan was formed and executed — 
" that whosoever believeth in him should not 
perish, but have everlasting life." " As I live, 
saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death 
of the wicked." "He would have all men to 
be saved, and to come to the knowledge of the 
truth." " He would not have any perish, but 
that all should come to repentance." There 
is nothing, surely, in all this to promote gloom- 
iness. On the contrary, if kindness and mercy 
have a tendency to win and warm the heart, 
here is every incentive to joy and cheerfulness. 
Christianity looks kindly towards all, and with 
peculiar tenderness on such as, from humbling 
views of their own unworthiness, might be led 
to fancy themselves excluded — we are expressly 
told, that " Christ died for all" — that " he 
tasted death for every man" — that "he died 



DOCTRINE OF REDEMPTION. 397 

for the sins of the whole world." Accordingly, 
he has commanded that his gospel should be 
" preached to every creature ;" which is in 
effect declaring, that not a single human being 
is excluded ; for to preach the gospel is to offer 
a Saviour — and the Saviour, in the plainest 
language, offers himself to all, declaring to " all 
the ends of the earth, Look unto me, and be 
saved." It is therefore an undeniable truth, 
that no one will perish for want of a Saviour, 
but for rejecting him ; that none are excluded 
who do not exclude themselves, as many un- 
happily do, who " reject the counsel of God 
against themselves, and so receive the grace of 
God in vain." 

But to suppose that because Christ has died 
for the " sins of the whole world," the whole 
world will therefore be saved, is a most fatal 
mistake. In the same book which tells us that 
" Christ died for all," we have likewise this 
awful admonition, " Strait is the gate, and few 
there be that find it ;" which, whether it be un- 
derstood of the immediate reception of the gos- 
pel, or of the final use which was too likely to 
be made of it, gives no encouragement to hope 
that all will be qualified to partake of its prom- 
ises. And,Svhilst it declares that " there is no 
other name whereby we may be saved, but the 
name of Jesus," it likewise declares, 

That " Without holiness no man shall see the 
Lord." 

It is much to be feared that some, in their 
zeal to defend the gospel doctrines of free 
grace, have materially injured the gospel doc- 
34* 



398 DOCTRINE OF REDEMPTION. 

trine of holiness ; stating, that Christ has done 
all in such a sense, as that there is nothing left 
for us to do. But do the Scriptures hold out 
this language? "Come, for! all things are 
ready," is the gospel call ; in which we may 
observe, that at the same time that it tells us 
that " all things are ready," it nevertheless tells 
us that we must " come." Food being provided 
for us will not benefit us, except we partake of 
it. It will not avail us that " Christ our pass- 
over is sacrificed for us," unless " we keep the 
feast." We must make use of "the fountain 
which is opened for sin and for uncleanness," 
if we would be purified. All, indeed, who are 
athirst are invited to " take of the waters of life 
freely ;" but if we feel no " thirst," if we do 
not drink, their saving qualities are of no avail. 
It is the more necessary to insist on this in 
the present day, as there is a worldly and fash- 
ionable, as well as a low and sectarian Antino- 
mianism ; there lamentably prevails in this 
world an unwarranted assurance of salvation, 
founded on a slight, vague, and general confi- 
dence in what Christ has done and suffered for 
us, as if the great object of his doing and suffer- 
ing had been to emancipate us from all obliga- 
tions to duty and obedience ; and as if, because 
he died for sinners, we might therefore safely 
and comfortably go on to live in sin, contenting 
ourselves with now and then a transient, formal, 
and unmeaning avowal of our unworthiness, 
our obligation, and the all-sufficiency of his . 
atonement. By the discharge of this quit- 
rent, of which all the cost consists in the ac- 
knowledgment, the sensual, the worldly, and 



DOCTRINE OF REDEMPTION. 399 

the vain, hope to find a refuge in heaven, when 
driven from the enjoyments of this world. But 
this cheap and indolent Christianity is no where 
taught in the Bible. The faith inculcated there 
is not a lazy, professional faith, but that faith 
which " produceth obedience" that faith which 
" worketh by love ;" that faith of which the 
practical language is — " Strive that you may 
enter in ;" — " so run that you may obtain ;" 
— " so fight that you may lay hold on eternal 
life ;" — that faith which directs us " not to be 
weary in well-doing ;" — which says, " Work 
out your own salvation ;" never forgetting, at 
the same time, " that it is God which worketh 
in us both to will and to do." The contrary 
doctrine is implied in the very name of the Re- 
deemer : " And his name shall be called Jesus, 
for he shall save his people from their sins," 
not in their sins. Are those rich supplies of 
grace which the gospel offers ; are those abun- 
dant aids of the Spirit which it promises, ten- 
dered to the slothful ? No. God will have all 
his gifts improved. Grace must be used, or it 
will be withdrawn. The Almighty thinks it 
not derogatory to his free grace to declare, that 
" those only who do his commandments have 
right to the tree of life." And the Scriptures 
represent it as not derogatory to the sacrifice of 
Christ, to follow his example in well-doing. 
The only caution is, that we must not work in 
our own strength, nor bring in our contribution 
of works as if in aid of the supposed deficiency 
of His merits. 

For we must not, in our over caution, fancy 
that because Christ has " redeemed us from the 



400 CHANGE OF HEART. 

curse of the law," we are therefore without a 
law. In acknowledging Christ as a deliverer, 
we must not forget that he is a lawgiver too, 
and that we are expressly commanded " to ful- 
fil the law of Christ;" if we wish to know what 
his laws are, we must " search the Scriptures," 
especially the New Testament ; there we shall 
find him declaring 

The absolute necessity of a change of heart 
and life : 

Our Saviour says, that " Except a man be 
born again, he cannot see the kingdom of 
God ;" that it is not a mere acknowledging his 
authority, calling him " Lord, Lord," that will 
avail any thing, except we do what he com- 
mands ; that any thing short of this is like a 
man building his house upon the sands, which, 
when the storms come on, will certainly fall. 
In like manner the apostles are continually en- 
forcing the necessity of this change, which 
they describe under the various names of " the 
new man ;"* — " the new creature !"f — " a 
transformation into the image of God ;"$ — " a 
participation of the divine nature."^ Nor is 
this change represented as consisting merely 
in a change of religious opinions ; nor even 
in being delivered over from a worse to a better 
system of doctrines ; nor in exchanging gross 
sins for those which are more sober and rep- 
utable ; nor in renouncing the sins of youth, 
and assuming those of a quieter period of life; 
nor in leaving off evil practices because men 

* Eph. iv. 24. f Gal. vi. 15. J 2 Cor. xii. $ 2 Pet. i. 4. 



THE HOLY SPIRIT. 401 

are grown tired of them, or find they injure 
their credit, health, or fortune: nor does it 
consist in inofTensiveness and obliging manners, 
nor indeed in any merely outward reformation. 
But the change consists in " being renewed 
in the spirit of our minds ;" in being " con- 
formed to the image of the Son of God ;" in 
being " called out of darkness into his marvel- 
lous light." And the whole of this great 
change, its beginning, its progress, and final 
accomplishment, — for it is represented as a 
gradual change, — is ascribed to 

The influences of the Holy Spirit. 

We are perpetually reminded of our utter in- 
ability to help ourselves, that we may set the 
higher value on those gracious aids which are 
held out to us. We are taught that " we are 
not sufficient to think any thing as of ourselves, 
but our sufficiency is of God." And when we 
are told that " if we live after the flesh, we 
shall die," we are at the same time reminded, 
that it is through the Spirit that we must 
" mortify the deeds of the body." We are 
likewise cautioned that we " grieve not the 
Holy Spirit of God ;" " that we quench not the 
Spirit." By all which expressions, and many 
others of like import, we are taught that, while 
we are to ascribe with humble gratitude every 
good thought, word, and work to the influence 
of the Holy Spirit, we are not to look on such 
influences as superseding our own exertions ; 
and it is too plain that we may reject the gra- 
cious offers of assistance, since otherwise there 
would be no occasion to caution us not to do it. 



402 OUR SPIRITUAL ENEMY. 

The Scriptures have illustrated this in terms 
which are familiar indeed, but which are there- 
fore only the more condescending and endear- 
ing. " Behold, I stand at the door and knock. 
If any man hear my voice and open the door, I 
will come in to him, and will sup with him, 
and he with me." Observe, it is not said, If 
any man will not listen to me, I will force open 
the door. But if We refuse admittance to such 
a guest, we must abide by the consequences. 

The sublime doctrine of divine assistance is 
the more to be prized, not only on account of 
our own helplessness, but from the additional 
consideration of the powerful adversary with 
whom the Christian has to contend ; an article 
of our faith, by the way, which is growing into 
general disrepute among the politer classes of 
society. Nay, there is a kind of ridicule at- 
tached to the very suggestion of the subject, as 
if it were exploded by general agreement, on 
full proof of its being an absolute absurdity, 
utterly repugnant to the liberal spirit of an en- 
lightened age. And it requires no small neat- 
ness of expression and periphrastic ingenuity to 
get the very mention tolerated : 1 mean — - 

The Scripture doctrine of the existence and 
power of our great spiritual enemy. 

This is considered by the fashionable skeptic 
as a vulgar invention, which ought to be banish- 
ed with the belief in dreams, and ghosts, and 
witchcraft ; by the fashionable Christian, as an 
ingenious allegory, but not as a literal truth ; 
and by almost all, as a doctrine which, when it 
happens to be introduced at church, has at 



OUR SPIRITUAL ENEMY. 403 

least nothing to do with the peies, but is by 
common consent made over to the aisles, if in- 
deed it must be retained at all. ; -. 

May I, with great humility "and respect, pre- 
sume to suggest to our divines, that they would 
do well not to lend their countenance to these 
modish curtailments of the Christian faith ; nor 
to shun the introduction of this doctrine when- 
ever it consists with their subject to bring it 
forward ? A truth which is seldom brought be- 
fore the eye, imperceptibly grows less and less 
important ; and if it be an unpleasing truth, 
we grow more and more reconciled to its ab- 
sence, till at length its intrusion becomes offen- 
sive, and we learn in the end to renounce what 
we at first only neglected. Because some 
coarse and ranting enthusiasts have been fond 
of using tremendous terms and awful denuncia- 
tions with a violence and frequency which 
might make it seem to be a gratification to 
them to denounce judgments and anticipate 
torments, can their coarseness or vulgarity 
make a true doctrine false, or an important one 
trifling 1 If such preachers have given offence 
by their uncouth manner of managing an awful 
doctrine, that indeed furnishes a caution to 
treat the subject more discreetly, but it is no 
just reason for avoiding the doctrine. For to 
keep a truth out of sight because it has been 
absurdly handled or ill defended, might in time 
be assigned as a reason for keeping back, one 
by one, every doctrine of our holy church ; for 
which of them has not occasionally had impru- 
dent advocates or weak champions ? 

Be it remembered, that the doctrine in ques- 



404 ON THE CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 

tion is not only interwoven by allusion, implica- 
tion, or direct assertion throughout the whole 
Scripture, but that it stands prominently person- 
ified at the opening of the New as well as the 
Old Testament. The devil's temptation of our 
Lord, in which he is not represented figura- 
tively, but visibly and palpably, stands exactly- 
on the same ground of authority with other 
events which are received without repugnance. 
And it may not be an unuseful observation to 
remark, that the very refusing to believe in an 
evil spirit, may be considered as one of his own 
suggestions ; for there is not a more dangerous 
illusion than to believe ourselves out of the 
reach of illusions, nor a more alarming tempta- 
tion than to fancy that we are not liable to be 
tempted. 

But the dark cloud raised by this doctrine 
will be dispelled by the cheering certainty that 
our blessed Saviour, having himself " been 
tempted like as we are, is able to deliver those 
who are tempted." 

To return. From this imperfect sketch we 
may see how suitable the religion of Christ is 
to fallen man ! How exactly it meets every 
want ! No one needs now perish because he is 
a sinner, provided he be willing to forsake his 
sins ; for " Jesus Christ came into the world to 
save sinners ;" and " He is now exalted to be a 
Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance and 
forgiveness of sin ;" which passage, be it ob- 
served, may be considered as pointing out to us 
the order in which he bestows his blessings ; 
he gives first repentance , and then forgiveness. 

We may likewise- see how much the charac- 



ON THE CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 405 

ter of a true Christian rises above every other ; 
that there is a wholeness, an integrity, a com- 
pleteness in the Christian character,- that a 
few natural, pleasing qualities, not cast in the 
mould of the gospel, are but as beautiful frag- 
ments, or well-turned single limbs, which, for 
want of that beauty which arises from the pro- 
portion of parts, for want of that connection of 
the members with the living head, are of little 
comparative excellence. There may be amia- 
ble qualities which are not Christian graces: 
and the apostle, after enumerating every sepa- 
rate article of attack or defence with which a 
Christian warrior is to be accoutered, sums up 
the matter by directing that we put on " the 
whole armour of God." And this completeness 
is insisted on by all the apostles. One prays 
that his converts may " stand perfect and com- 
plete in the whole will of God :" another en- 
joins that they be " perfect and entire, wanting 
nothing." 

Now we are not to suppose that they ex- 
pected any convert to be without faults ; they 
knew too well the constitution of the human 
heart to form so unfounded an expectation. But 
Christians must have no fault in their prin- 
ciple ; their views must be direct, their pro- 
posed scheme must be faultless ; their intention 
must be single ; their standard must be lofty ; 
their object must be right ; their " mark must 
be the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." 
There must be no allowed evil, no warranted 
defection, no tolerated impurity, no habitual 
irregularity. Though they do not rise as high 
as they ought, nor as they wish, in the scale of 
35 



406 ON THE CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 

perfection, yet the scale itself must be correct, 
and the desire of ascending perpetual, counting 
nothing done while any thing remains undone. 
Every grace must be kept in exercise ; con- 
quests once made over an evil propensity must 
not only be maintained, but extended. And in 
truth, Christianity so comprises contrary, and, 
as it may be thought, irreconcilable excellences, 
that those which seem so incompatible as to be 
incapable by nature of being inmates of the 
same breast, are almost necessarily involved in 
the Christian character. 

For instance, Christianity requires that our 
faith be at once fervent and sober ; that our 
love be both ardent and lasting ; that our pa- 
tience be not only heroic, but gentle ; she de- 
mands dauntless zeal and genuine humility ; 
active services and complete self-renunciation ; 
high attainments in goodness, with deep con- 
sciousness of defect ; courage in reproving, and 
meekness in bearing reproof; a quick percep- 
tion of what is sinful, with a willingness to for- 
give the offender ; active virtue ready to do all, 
and passive virtue ready to bear all. We must 
stretch every faculty in the service of our Lord, 
and yet bring every thought into obedience to 
him : while we aim to live in the exercise of 
every Christian grace, we must account our- 
selves unprofitable servants ; we must strive for 
the crown, yet receive it as a gift, and then lay 
it at our Master's feet; while we are busily 
trading in the world with our Lord's talents, 
we must " commune with our heart and be 
still ;" while we strive to practise the purest 
disinterestedness, we must be contented though 



ON THE CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 407 

we meet with selfishness in return ; and while 
laying out our lives for the good of mankind, 
we must submit to reproach without murmur- 
ing, and to ingratitude without resentment ; 
and to render us equal to all these services, 
Christianity bestows not only the precept, but 
the power ; she does what the great poet of 
ethics lamented that reason could not do, " she 
lends us arms as well as rules." 

For here, if not only the worldly and the 
timid, but the humble and the well-disposed, 
should demand with fear and trembling, " Who 
is sufficient for these things V Revelation 
makes its own reviving answer, " My grace is 
sufficient for thee." 

It will be well here to distinguish that there 
are two sorts of Christian professors, one of 
which affect to speak of Christianity as if it 
were a mere system of doctrines, with little 
reference to their influence on life and man- 
ners ; while the other consider it as exhibiting 
a scheme of human duties independent on its 
doctrines. For though the latter sort may ad- 
mit the doctrines, yet they contemplate them as 
a separate and disconnected set of opinions, 
rather than as an influential principle of action. 
In violation of that beautiful harmony which 
subsists in every part of Scripture between 
practice and belief, the religious world furnishes 
two sorts of people who seem to enlist them- 
selves, as if in opposition, under the banners of 
St. Paul and St. James ; as if those two great 
champions of the Christian cause had fought 
for two masters. Those who affect respectively 
to be the disciples of each, treat faith and works 



408 ON THE CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 

as if they were opposite interests, instead of in- 
separable points. Nay, they go farther, and 
set St. Pan! at variance with himself. 

Now, instead of reasoning on the point, let 
ns refer to the apostle in question, who himself 
definitively settles the dispute. The apostoli- 
cal order and method, in this respect, deserve 
notice and imitation ; for it is observable that 
the earlier parts of most of the epistles abound 
in the doctrines of Christianity, while those lat- 
ter chapters, which wind up the subject, exhibit 
all the duties which grow out of them, as the 
natural and necessary productions of such a 
living root.* But this alternate mention of 
doctrine and practice, which seemed likely to 
unite, has, on the contrary, formed a sort of 
line of separation between these two orders of 
believers, and introduced a broken and mutila- 
ted system. Those who would make Christian- 
ity consist of doctrines only, dwell, for instance, 
on the first eleven chapters of the Epistle to the 
Romans, as containing exclusively the sum and 
substance of the gospel. While the mere mor- 
alists, who wish to strip Christianity of her lofty 
and appropriate attributes, delight to dwell on 
the twelfth chapter, which is a table of duties, 
as exclusively as if the preceding chapters made 
no part of the sacred canon. But St. Paul him- 
self, who was, at least, as sound a theologian as 
any of his commentators, settles the matter 
another way, by making the duties of the 

* This is the language of our church, as may be seen in her 
12th article, viz. "Good works do spring out necessarily of a 
true and lively faith ; insomuch that by them a lively faith may 
be as evidently knovvu, as a tree discerned by its fruits." 



DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 409 

twelfth grow out of the doctrines of the ante- 
cedent eleven, just as any other consequence 
grows out of its cause. And as if he suspected 
that the indivisible union between them might 
possibly be overlooked, he links the two distinct 
divisions together by a logical " therefore" with 
which the twelfth begins : — " I beseech you 
therefore," (that is, as the effect of all I have 
been inculcating), " that you present your 
bodies a living sacrifice, acceptable to God," 
&c, and then goes on to enforce on them, as 
a consequence of what he had been preaching, 
the practice of every Christian virtue. This 
combined view of the subject seems, on the 
one hand, to be the only means of preventing 
the substitution of pagan morality for Christian 
holiness; and, on the other, of securing the 
leading doctrine of justification by faith, from 
the dreadful danger of antinomian licentious- 
ness ; every human obligation being thus graft- 
ed on the living stock of a divine principle. 



CHAPTER XXL 

On the duty and efficacy of prayer. 

It is not proposed to enter largely on a topic 
which has been exhausted by the ablest pens. 
But as a work of this nature seems to require 
35* 



410 DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 

that so important a subject should not be over- 
looked, it is intended to notice, in a slight man- 
ner, a few of those many difficulties and popular 
objections which are brought forward against 
the use and efficacy of prayer, even by those 
who would be unwilling to be suspected of 
impiety and unbelief. 

There is a class of objectors who strangely 
profess to withhold homage from the Most High, 
not out of contempt, but reverence. They 
affect to consider the use of prayer as deroga- 
tory from the omniscience of God, asserting 
that it looks as if we thought he stood in need 
of being informed of our wants : and as derog- 
atory from his goodness, as implying that he 
needs to be put in mind of them. 

But is it not enough for such poor frail beings 
as we are, to know that God himself does not 
consider prayer as derogatory either to his wis- 
dom or goodness ? And shall we erect our- 
selves into judges of what is consistent with the 
attributes of Him before whom angels fall pros- 
trate with self-abasement? Will he thank such 
defenders of his attributes, who, while they pro- 
fess to reverence, scruple not to disobey him ? 
It ought rather to be viewed as a great encour- 
agement to prayer, that we are addressing a 
Being who knows our wants better than we can 
express them, and whose preventing goodness 
is always ready to relieve them. Prayer seems 
to unite the different attributes of the Almighty ; 
for, if he is indeed the God that heareth prayer, 
that is the best reason why " to Him all flesh 
should come." 

It is objected by another class, and on the 



DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 411 

specious ground of humility too — though we do 
not always find the objector himself quite as 
humble as his plea would be thought — that it is 
arrogant in such insignificant beings as we are 
to presume to lay our petty necessities before 
the great and glorious God, who cannot be ex- 
pected to condescend to the multitude of trifling 
and even interfering requests which are brought 
before him by his creatures. These and such 
like objections arise from mean and unworthy 
thoughts of the Great Creator. It seems as if 
those who make them considered the Most 
High as " such a one as themselves" — a Being 
who can perform a certain given quantity of 
business, but who would be overpowered with 
an additional quantity. Or, at best, is it not 
considering the Almighty in the light, not of an 
infinite God, but of a great man, of a minister 
or a king, who, while he superintends public 
and national concerns, is obliged to neglect 
small and individual petitions, because, his 
hands being full, he cannot spare that leisure 
and attention which suffice for every thing? 
They do not consider him as that infinitely glo- 
rious Being, who, while he beholds at once all 
that is doing in heaven and in earth, is, at the 
same time, as attentive to the prayer of the 
poor destitute, as present to the sorrowful sigh- 
ing of the prisoner, as if each of these forlorn 
creatures were individually the object of his un- 
divided attention. 

These critics, who are for sparing the Su- 
preme Being the trouble of our prayers, and, if 
I may so speak without profaneness, would re- 
lieve Omnipotence of part of his burden, by 



412 DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 

assigning to his care only such a portion as 
may be more easily managed, seem to have no 
adequate conception of his attributes. 

They forget that infinite wisdom puts him as 
easily within reach of all knowledge, as infinite 
power does of all performance ; that he is a 
Being, in whose plans complexity makes no 
difficulty, variety no obstruction, and multi- 
plicity no confusion ; that to ubiquity, distance 
does not exist ; that to infinity, space is annihi- 
lated ; that past, present, and future are dis- 
cerned more accurately at one glance of his 
eye, to whom a thousand years are as one day, 
than a single moment of time or a single point 
of space can be by ours. 

To the other part of the objection, founded 
on the supposed interference (that is, irrecon- 
cilableness) of one man's petitions with those of 
another, this answer seems to suggest itself, 
first, that we must take care that when we ask 
we do not " ask amiss ;" that, for instance, we 
ask chiefly, and in an unqualified manner, only 
for spiritual blessings to ourselves and others ; 
and in doing this, the prayer of one man can- 
not interfere with that of another, because no 
proportion of sanctity or virtue implored by one 
obstructs the same attainments in another. 
Next, in asking for temporal and inferior bless- 
ings, we must qualify our petition, even though 
it should extend to deliverance from the sever- 
est pains, or to our very life itself, according to 
that example of our Saviour : " Father, if it be 
possible, let this cup pass from me. Neverthe- 
less, not my will, but thine, be done." By thus 
qualifying our prayer, we exercise ourselves in 



DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 413 

an act of resignation to God ; we profess not to 
wish what will interfere with his benevolent 
plan, and yet we may hope, by prayer, to secure 
the blessing so far as it is consistent with it. 
Perhaps the reason why this objection to prayer 
is so strongly felt, is the too great disposition to 
pray for merely temporal and worldly blessings, 
and to desire them in the most unqualified man- 
ner, not submitting to be without them, even 
though the granting them should be inconsis- 
tent with the general plan of Providence. 

Another class continue to bring forward, as 
pertinaciously as if it had never been answered, 
the exhausted argument, that, seeing God is 
immutable, no petitions of ours can ever change 
him ; — that events themselves being settled in 
a fixed and unalterable course, and bound in a 
fatal necessity, it is folly to think that we can 
disturb the established laws of the universe, or 
interrupt the course of Providence by our 
prayers ; and that it is absurd to suppose these 
firm decrees can be reversed by any requests 
of ours. 

Without entering into the wide and trackless 
field of fate and free will, from which pursuit I 
am kept back equally by the most profound ig- 
norance and the most invincible dislike, I would 
only observe, that these objections apply equally 
to all human actions as well as to prayer. It may, 
therefore, with the same propriety, be urged 
that, seeing God is immutable, and his decrees 
unalterable, therefore our actions can produce 
no change in him, or in our own state. Weak, 
as well as impious reasoning ! It may be ques- 
tioned whether even the modern French and 



414 DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 

German philosophers might not be prevailed 
upon to acknowledge the existence of God, if 
they might make such a use of his attributes. 
The truth is (and it is a truth discoverable 
without any depth of learning), all these objec- 
tions are the offspring of pride. Poor, short- 
sighted man cannot reconcile the omniscience 
and decrees of God with the efficacy of prayer ; 
and, because he cannot reconcile them, he 
modestly concludes they are irreconcilable. 
How much more wisdom, as well as happiness, 
results from an humble Christian spirit ! Such 
a plain practical text as, " Draw near unto 
God, and he will draw near unto you," carries 
more consolation, more true knowledge of his 
wants and their remedy to the heart of a peni- 
tent sinner, than all the " tomes of casuistry" 
which have puzzled the world ever since the 
question was first set afloat by its original pro- 
pounders. 

And as the plain man only got up and walk- 
ed, to prove there was such a thing as motion, 
in answer to the philosopher who, in an elabo- 
rate theory denied it, — so the plain Christian, 
when he is borne down with the assurance that 
there is no efficacy in prayer, requires no better 
argument to repel the assertion than the good 
he finds in prayer itself. 

All the doubts proposed to him respecting 
God, do not so much affect him as this one 
doubt respecting himself — " If I regard iniquity 
in my heart, the Lord will not hear me." For 
the chief doubt and difficulty of a real Christian 
consists, not so much in a distrust of God's 
ability and willingness to answer the prayer of 



DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 415 

the upright, as in a distrust of his own upright- 
ness, as in a doubt whether he himself belongs 
to that description of persons to whom the 
promises are made, and of the quality of the 
prayer which he offers up. 

Let the subjects of a dark fate maintain a 
sullen, or the slaves of a blind chance a hope- 
Jess silence ; but let the child of a compassion- 
ate Almighty Father supplicate His mercies 
with an humble confidence, inspired by the as- 
surance, that " the very hairs of his head are 
numbered. 5 ' Let him take comfort in that in- 
dividual and minute attention, without which 
not a sparrow falls to the ground, as well as 
in that heart-cheering promise, that, as " the 
eyes of the Lord are over the righteous," so are 
" his ears open to their prayers." And, as a 
pious bishop has observed, " Our Saviour, as it 
were, hedged in and inclosed the Lord's prayer 
with these two great fences of our faith, God's 
willingness and his power to help us :" the pre- 
face to it assures us of the one, which, by call- 
ing God by the tender name of " our Father," 
intimates his readiness to help his children; 
and the animating conclusion, " thine is the 
power," rescues us from every unbelieving 
doubt of his ability to help us. 

A Christian knows, because he feels, that 
prayer is, though in a way to him inscrutable, 
the medium of connection between God and his 
rational creatures ; the means appointed by him 
to draw down his blessings upon us. The 
Christian knows that prayer is the appointed 
means of uniting two ideas, one of the highest 
magnificence, the other of the most profound 



416 DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 

lowliness, within the compass of imagination ; 
namely, that it is the link of communication be- 
tween " the high and lofty One who inhabiteth 
eternity," and that heart of the " contrite in 
which he delights to dwell." He knows that 
this inexplicable union between beings so un- 
speakably, so essentially different, can only be 
maintained by prayer ; that this is the strong 
but secret chain which unites time with eter- 
nity, earth with heaven, man with God. 

The plain Christian, as was before observed, 
cannot explain why it is so ; but while he feels 
the efficacy, he is contented to let the learned 
define it ; and he will no more postpone prayer 
till he can produce a chain of reasoning on the 
manner in which he derives benefit from it, 
than he will postpone eating, till he can give a 
scientific lecture on the nature of digestion; 
he is contented with knowing that his meat has 
nourished him ; and he leaves to the philoso- 
pher, who may choose to defer his meal till he 
has elaborated his treatise, to starve in the in- 
terim. The Christian feels, better than he is 
able to explain, that the functions of his spirit- 
ual life can no more be carried on without 
habitual prayer, than those of his natural life 
without frequent bodily nourishment. He feels 
renovation and strength grow out of the use of 
the appointed means, as necessarily in the one 
case as in the other. He feels that the health 
of his soul can no more be sustained, and its 
powers kept in continued vigor by the prayers 
of a distant day, than his body by the aliment 
of a distant day. 

But there is one motive to the duty in ques- 



DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 417 

tion, far more constraining to the true believer 
than all others that can be named ; more impe- 
rious than any argument on its utility, than any 
convictions of its efficacy, even than any expe- 
rience of its consolations : — Prayer is the com- 
mand of God ; the plain, positive, repeated in- 
junction of the Most High, who declares, " He 
will be inquired of." This is enough to secure 
the obedience of the Christian, even though a 
promise were not, as it always is, attached to 
the command. But in this case, to our un- 
speakable comfort, the promise is as clear as 
the precept ; " Ask, and ye shall receive ; seek, 
and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be open- 
ed unto you." This is encouragement enough 
for the plain Christian. As to the manner in 
which prayer is made to coincide with the gen- 
eral scheme of God's plan in the government of 
human affairs ; how God has left himself at 
liberty to reconcile our prayer with his own 
predetermined will, the Christian does not very 
critically examine, his precise and immediate 
duty being to pray, and not to examine ; and 
probably this being among the " secret things 
which belong to God," and not to us, it will lie 
hidden among those numberless mysteries which 
we shall not fully understand till faith be lost in 
sight. 

In the mean time, it is enough for the hum- 
ble believer to be assured, that the Judge of all 
the earth is doing right : it is enough for him 
to be assured, in that word of God " which can- 
not lie," of numberless actual instances of the 
efficacy of prayer in obtaining blessings and 
averting calamities, both national and indi- 
36 



418 DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 

vidual ; it is enough for him to be convinced 
experimentally, by that internal evidence which 
is perhaps paramount to all other evidence, the 
comfort he himself has received from prayer 
when all other comforts have failed, — and above 
all, to end with the same motive with which we 
began, the only motive indeed which he re- 
quires for the performance of any duty — it is 
motive enough for him that thus saith the Lord. 
For when a serious Christian has once got a 
plain, unequivocal command from his Maker, 
on any point, he never suspends his obedience 
while he is amusing himself with looking about 
for subordinate motives of action. Instead of 
curiously analyzing the nature of the duty, he 
considers how he shall best fulfil it ; for on 
these points at least it may be said without con- 
troversy, that " the ignorant (and here who is 
not ignorant ?) have nothing to do with the law 
but to obey it." 

Others there are, who perhaps not contro- 
verting any of these premises, yet neglect to 
build practical consequences on the admission 
of them ; who, neither denying the duty nor 
the efficacy of prayer, yet go on to live either in 
the irregular observance or the total neglect of 
it, as "appetite, or pleasure, or business, or hu- 
mor, may happen to predominate ; and who, by 
living almost without prayer, may be said " to 
live almost without God in the world." To 
such we can only say, that they little know 
what they lose. The time is hastening on when 
they will look upon those blessings as invalua- 
ble, which now they think not worth asking for ; 
when they will bitterly regret the absence of 



DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 419 

those means and opportunities which now they 
either neglect or despise. " O that they were 
wise ! that they understood this ! that they would 
consider their latter end 1" 

There are again others, who, it is to be fear- 
ed, having once lived in the habit of prayer, 
yet not having been well grounded in those 
principles of faith and repentance on which 
genuine prayer is built, have by degrees totally 
discontinued it. " They do not find," say they, 
" that their affairs prosper the better or the 
worse ; or perhaps they were unsuccessful in 
their affairs even before they dropped the prac- 
tice, and so had no encouragement to go on." 
They do not know that they had no encourage- 
ment ; they do not know how much worse their 
affairs might have gone on, had they discon- 
tinued it sooner, or how their prayers helped to 
retard their ruin. Or they do not know that 
perhaps " they asked amiss," or that, if they 
had obtained what they asked, they might have 
been far more unhappy. For a true believer 
never " restrains prayer" because he is not cer- 
tain he obtains every individual request; for he 
is persuaded that God, in compassion to our 
ignorance, sometimes in great mercy withholds 
what we desire, and often disappoints his most 
favored children by giving them, not what they 
ask, but what he knows is really good for them. 
The froward child, as a pious prelate* observes, 
cries for the shining blade, which the tender 
parent withholds, knowing it would cut his 
finders. 

* Bishop Hall. 



420 DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 

Thus to persevere when we have not the en- 
couragement of visible success, is an evidence 
of tried faith. Of this holy perseverance, Job 
was a noble instance. Defeat and disappoint- 
ment rather stimulated than stopped his prayers. 
Though in a vehement strain of passionate elo- 
quence he exclaims, " I cry out of wrong, but 
I am not heard ; I cry aloud, but there is no 
judgment ;" yet so persuaded was he, notwith- 
standing, of the duty of continuing this holy 
importunity, that he persisted against all human 
hope, till he attained to that exalted pitch of un- 
shaken faith, by which he was enabled to break 
out into that sublime apostrophe, " Though he 
slay me, yet will J trust in him !" 

But may we not say there is a considerable 
class, who not only bring none of the objections 
which we have stated against the use of prayer ; 
who are so far from rejecting, that they are ex- 
act and regular in the performance of it ; who 
yet take it up on as low ground as is consistent 
with their ideas of their own safety ; who, while 
they consider prayer as an indispensable form, 
believe nothing of that change of heart and of 
those holy tempers which it is intended to pro- 
duce ? Many, who yet adhere scrupulously to 
the letter, are so far from entering into the spirit 
of this duty, that they are strongly inclined to 
suspect those of hypocrisy who adopt the true 
scriptural views of prayer. Nay, as even the 
Bible may be so wrested as. to be made to speak 
almost any language in support of almost any 
opinion, these persons lay hold on Scripture it- 
self to bear them out in their own slight views 
of this duty ; and they profess to borrow from 



DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 421 

thence the ground of that censure which they 
cast on the more serious Christians. Among 
the many passages which have been made to 
convey a meaning foreign to their original de- 
sign, none have been seized upon with more 
avidity by such persons than the pointed cen- 
sures of our Saviour on those " who for a pre- 
tence make long prayers ;" as well as on those 
" who use vain repetitions, and think they shall 
be heard for much speaking." Now, the things 
here intended to be reproved, were the hypoc- 
risy of the Pharisees, and the ignorance of the 
heathen, together with the error of all those 
who depended on the success of their prayers, 
while they imitated the deceit of the one or the 
folly of the other. But our Saviour never meant 
those severe reprehensions should cool or abridge 
the devotion of pious Christians, to which they 
do not at all apply. 

More or fewer words, however, so little con- 
stitute the true value of prayer, that there is no 
doubt but one of the most affecting specimens on 
record is the short petition of the publican ; full 
fraught as it is with that spirit of contrition and 
self-abasement which is the very principle and 
soul of prayer. And this specimen perhaps is 
the best model for that sudden lifting up of the 
heart which we call ejaculation. But I doubt, 
in general, whether those few hasty words to 
which these frugal petitioners would stint the 
scanty devotions of others and themselves, will 
be always found ample enough to satisfy the 
humble penitent, who, being a sinner, has much 
to confess ; who, hoping he is a pardoned sin- 
ner, has much to acknowledge. Such a one, 
36* 



422 DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 

perhaps, cannot always pour out the fulness of 
his soul within the prescribed abridgments. 
Even the sincerest Christian, when he wishes 
to find his heart warm, has often to lament its 
coldness. Though he feel that he has received 
much, and has therefore much to be thankful 
for, yet he is not able at once to bring his way- 
ward spirit into such a posture as shall fit it for 
the solemn business ; for such a one has not 
merely his form to repeat, but he has his tem- 
pers to reduce to order, his affections to excite, 
and his peace to make. His thoughts may be 
realizing the sarcasm of the prophet on the idol 
Baal, " they may be gone a journey," and must 
be recalled ; his heart perhaps " sleepeth, and 
must be awaked." A devout supplicant too 
will labor to affect and warm his mind with a 
sense of the great and gracious attributes of 
God, in imitation of the holy men of old. Like 
Jehoshaphat, he will sometimes enumerate " the 
power, and the might, and the mercies of the 
Most High," in order to stir up the sentiment 
of awe, and gratitude, and love, and humility in 
his own soul.* He will labor to imitate the ex- 
ample of his Saviour, whose heart dilated with 
the expression of the same holy affections. f f I 
thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth." 
A heart thus animated, thus warmed with divine 
love, cannot always scrupulously limit itself to 
the mere business of prayer, if I may so speak. 
It cannot content itself with merely spreading 
out its own necessities, but expands in contem- 
plating the perfections of Him to whom he is 

* 2 Chron. xx. 5, 6. 



DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 423 

addressing them. The humble supplicant, 
though he be no longer governed by a love of 
the vvorld, yet grieves to find that he cannot to- 
tally exclude it from his thoughts. Though he 
has on the whole a deep sense of his own wants, 
and of the abundant provision which is made 
for them in the gospel, yet when he most wishes 
to be rejoicing in those strong motives for love 
and gratitude, alas ! even then he has to mourn 
his worldliness, his insensibility, his deadness. 
He has to deplore the littleness and vanity of 
the objects which are even then drawing away 
his heart from his Redeemer. The best Chris- 
tian is but too liable, during the temptations of 
the day, to be ensnared by " the lust of the eye, 
and the pride of life," and is not always brought 
without effort to reflect that he is but dust and 
ashes. How can even good persons, who are 
just come perhaps from listening to the flattery 
of their fellow-worms, acknowledge before God, 
without any preparation of the heart, that they 
are miserable sinners? They require a little 
time, to impress on their own souls the truth of 
that solemn confession of sin they are making 
to Him, without which brevity and not length 
might constitute hypocrisy. Even the sincerely 
pious have in prayer grievous wanderings to la- 
ment, from which others mistakingly suppose 
the advanced Christian to be exempt ; such 
wanderings that, as an old divine has observed, 
it would exceedingly humble a good man, could 
he, after he had prayed, be made to see his 
prayers written down with exact interlineations 
of all the vain and impertinent thoughts which 
had thrust themselves in amongst them. So 



424 DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 

that such a one will, indeed, from a strong sense 
of these distractions, feel deep occasion with 
the prophet to ask forgiveness for " the iniquity 
of his holy things;" and would find cause 
enough for humiliation every night, had he to 
lament the sins of his prayers only. 

We know that such a brief petition as, " Lord, 
help my unbelief," if the supplicant be in so 
happy a frame, and the prayer be darted up 
with such strong faith that his very soul mounts 
with the petition, may suffice to draw down a 
blessing which may be withheld from the more 
prolix petitioner ; yet, if by prayer we do not 
mean a mere form of words, whether they be 
long or short ; if the true definition of prayer 
be, that it is " the desire of the heart;" if it be 
that secret communion between God and the 
soul, which is the very breath and being of re- 
ligion ; then is the Scripture so far from sug- 
gesting that short measure of which it is ac- 
cused, that it expressly says, " Pray without 
ceasing :" — " Pray evermore :" — " I will that 
men pray every where :" — " Continue instant 
in prayer." 

If such " repetitions" as these objectors rep- 
robate, stir up desires as yet unawakened, or 
protract affections already excited (for " vain 
repetitions" are such as awaken or express no 
new desire, and serve no religious purpose,) 
then are " repetitions" not to be condemned. 
And that our Saviour did not give the warning 
against " long prayers and repetitions" in the 
sense these objectors allege, is evident from his 
own practice ; for once, we are told, " he con- 
tinued all night in prayer to God." And again, 



DITTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 425 

in a most awful crisis of his life, it is expressly 
said, " He prayed the third time, using the same 
words"* 

All habits gain by exercise ; of course, the 
Christian graces gain force and vigor by being 
called out, and, as it were, mustered in prayer. 
Love, faith, and trust in the divine promises, if 
they were not kept alive by this stated inter- 
course with God would wither and die. Prayer 
is also one great source and chief encourager of 
holiness. " If I regard iniquity in my heart, 
the Lord will not hear me." 

Prayer possesses the twofold property of fit- 
ting and preparing the heart to receive the 
blessings we pray for, in case we should attain 
them ; and of fortifying and disposing it to sub- 
mit to the will of God, in case it should be his 
pleasure to withhold them. 

A sense of sin should be so far from keeping 
us from prayer, through a false plea of unwor- 
thiness, that the humility growing on this very 
consciousness is the truest and strongest incen- 
tive to prayer. There is, for our example and 
encouragement, a beautiful union of faith and 
humility in the prodigal : " I have sinned against 
heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy 
to be called thy son." This, as it might seem 
to imply hopelessness of pardon, might be sup- 
posed to promote unwillingness to ask it ; but 
the broken-hearted penitent drew the direct 
contrary conclusion — " I will arise, and go to 
my Father !" 

Prayer, to make it accepted, requires neither 

* Matt. xxvi. 44. 



426 DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 

genius, eloquence, nor language ; but sorrow 
for sin, faith, and humility. It is the cry of 
distress, the sense of want, the abasement of 
contrition, the energy of gratitude. It is not 
an elaborate string of well-arranged periods, nor 
an exercise of ingenuity, nor an effort of the 
memory ; but the devout breathing of a soul 
struck with the sense of its own misery, and of 
the infinite holiness of Him whom it is address- 
ing ; experimentally convinced of its own empti- 
ness, and of the abundant fulness of God, It 
is the complete renunciation of self, and entire 
dependence on another. It is the voice of the 
beggar who would be relieved, of the sinner 
who would be pardoned. It has nothing to 
offer but sin and sorrow ; nothing to ask but 
forgiveness and acceptance ; nothing to plead 
but the promises of the gospel in the death of 
Christ. It never seeks to obtain its object by 
diminishing the guilt of sin, but by exalting the 
merits of the Saviour. 

But as it is the effect of prayer to expand the 
affections as well as to sanctify them, the be- 
nevolent Christian is not satisfied to commend 
himself alone to the divine favor. The heart 
which is full. of the love of God will overflow 
with love to its neighbor. All that are near to 
himself, he wishes to bring near to God. He 
will present the whole human race as objects of 
the divine compassion, but especially the faith- 
ful followers of Jesus Christ. Religion makes 
a man so liberal of soul, that he cannot endure 
to restrict any thing, much less divine mercies, 
to himself; he therefore spiritualizes the social 
affections, by adding intercessory to personal 



DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 427 

prayer; for he knows, that petitioning for oth- 
ers is one of the best methods of exercising and 
enlarging our own love and charity, even if it 
were not to draw down those blessings which 
are promised to those for whom we ask them. 
It is unnecessary to produce any of the number- 
less instances with which Scripture abounds on 
the efficacy of intercession ; in which God has 
proved the truth of his own assurance, that 
" his ear was open to their cry." I shall con- 
fine myself to a few observations on the benefits 
it brings to him who offers it. When we pray 
for the objects of our dearest regard, it purifies 
passion, and exalts love into religion ; when we 
pray for those with whom we have worldly in- 
tercourse, it smooths down the swellings of 
envy, and bids the tumults of anger and ambi- 
tion subside ; when we pray for our country, it 
sanctifies patriotism ; when we pray for those 
in authority, it adds a divine motive to human 
obedience ; when we pray for our enemies, it 
softens the savageness of war, and mollifies 
hatred into tenderness, and resentment into sor- 
row. And we can only learn the duty so diffi- 
cult to human nature, of forgiving those who 
have offended us, when we bring ourselves to 
pray for them to Him whom we ourselves daily 
offend. When those who are the faithful fol- 
lowers of the same divine Master pray for each 
other, the reciprocal intercession delightfully 
realizes that beautiful idea of" the communion 
of saints." There is scarcely any thing which 
more enriches the Christian than the circula- 
tion of this holy commerce ; than the comfort 
of believing, while he is praying for his Chris- 



428 DUTY AND EFFICACY OF PRAYER. 

tian friends, that he is also reaping the benefit 
of their prayers for him. 

Some are for confining their intercessions 
only to the good, as if none but persons of merit 
were entitled to our prayers. Merit ! who has 
it ? desert who can plead it 1 — in the sight of 
God, I mean. Who shall bring his own piety, 
or the piety of others, in the way of claim, be- 
fore a Being of such transcendent holiness, that 
** the heavens are not clean in his sight V And 
if we wait for perfect holiness as a preliminary 
to prayer, when shall such erring creatures pray 
at all to Him " who chargeth the angels with 
folly !" 

In closing this little work with the subject of 
intercessory prayer, may the author be allowed 
to avail herself of the feeling it suggests to her 
own heart? And while she earnestly implores 
that Being, who can make the meanest of his 
creatures instrumental to his glory, to bless this 
humble attempt to those for whom it was writ- 
ten, may she, without presumption, entreat that 
this work of Christian charity may be recipro- 
cal, and that those who peruse these pages may 
put up a petition for her, that, in the great day 
to which we are all hastening, she may not be 
found to have suggested to others that she her- 
self did not believe, or to have recommended 
what she did not desire to practise ? In that 
awful day of everlasting decision, may both the 
reader and the writer be pardoned and accept- 
ed, " not for any works of righteousness which 
they have done," but through the merits of the 
Great Intercessor. 



31^77-2 



